A Hundred Words
by DanteLegna
Summary: A hundred words would never be enough to describe their relationship entirely, but they could always give it a try. [A 100 One-Shots Collection involving a father-son relationship between Jack and Pitch (and other moments of their lives); rated T for mild violence; beware of the wild OCs] / Chapter 90: Photos
1. Abandoned

_**Hello, guys! It's been a while since I wrote something and I've just forgot how hard it can be! However, this idea had been bothering me for some time and I couldn't simply let it slip away. It's a collection of 100 drabbles all centered in Jack Frost/Pitch relationship, in a very father-son way (before, during and after the movie). I hope you enjoy it!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of The Guardians.**_

 ** _Changelog:  
_** _Chapter updated: 04/14/16 - Full rewrite_  
 _Chapter updated: 07/15/16 - Chapter doesn't belong to Lightbringer timelime anymore; spelling mistakes fixed_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack finally finds a 'friend'.**_

* * *

 _ **01\. Abandoned (1812)  
** Guardians; Welcome Home_

A hundred years may be nothing in the eyes of an immortal but a mere breeze of summer sweeping away the months and years swiftly, leaving only the moments behind, good or bad, that were soon forgotten and replaced by new moments. A hundred years were absolutely nothing in compare to the countless centuries resting over an immortal's shoulders. But a hundred years had been a long, long time for him. Years that had ran too slowly, too painfully for someone that knew barely nothing about his own existence. He couldn't understand why he had ended up like that, unseen and unwanted by everyone else but the Wind. He couldn't understand why children and adults alike simply walked through him as if he wasn't real. He couldn't understand why the other spirits ignored him, why they pretended he didn't really exist when all he wanted were some answers to his questions.

He had done _nothing wrong_ to deserve such a **cold** treatment.

He was just a winter spirit trying to find out the true reason of his existence. He knew his name was Jack Frost because the Moon had told him so - and that was the only thing anyone had ever told him. Not that the Wind hadn't even tried, but no matter what he did he simply couldn't understand his only friend. Her touches were soft and gentle and he knew she cared about him, but it wasn't enough. She didn't have the answers he had been looking for restlessly for the past years, and those who could offer him some clarification gave him nothing but silence.

That was horrid, _terrifying_.

The Wind whispered sweetly on his ears, sensing his sudden distress. How she knew him so well he'd never comprehend, but he couldn't be more grateful for her constant presence by his side. Unfortunately he needed more than her company, more than her silent touches that allowed him to visit every place in a world that had chosen not to see him, not to believe in his existence. But before he could dwell on such depressing thoughts, she dropped him on the middle of his lake, brushing his hair as softly as she'd touch a snowflake.

The moonlight shining over his head was the first thing he noticed, the anger burning under his frozen skin at the silent mockering. He didn't even notice how tight was his grip on his staff until his knuckles became more white than they should be, yet it didn't stop him from looking up at the big, bright moon that once meant a respectful, overwhelming presence but now was no more than another unfriendly spirit that cared nothing about him.

"You put me here... At least you could tell me why!"

"You're just wasting your time."

A voice echoed too close, velvet and soft as the shadows dancing behind the trees. A wave of irrational fear and stupid excitement ran through his spine before he had enough time to think about it, and the winter child simply watched, gobsmacked, as a tall figure made of the purest darkness stepped out of the same shadows covering those woods. He knew he should run and stay away from that creature as much as it was possible, but he couldn't move in that moment.

Someone was _talking to him_.  
Someone could **see him**.

How was he supposed to run away from the first person that had officially spent more than ten seconds around him?

Golden eyes got opened slowly, a crushing contrast against all the black around them, and for a long moment Jack allowed himself to get lost in those orbs that resembled an eclipse, turning silver and gold and silver again. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever watched, and he was sure he could stand there for hours, simply gawking. But the creature started moving quietly, circling him, those same eyes full of hunger and something Jack couldn't name nor dared to, because he didn't want to know what was that.

"W-who are you?"

He knew he shouldn't let his voice fail him in that pathetic way, yet there wasn't much he could do being under such a powerful, overwhelming gaze. A glimpse of jagged, sharp teeth caught his attention, and finally the dark creature stopped his walking and got close enough to the moonlight. It was a tall man dressed in black, elegant clothes that seemed to be made of the night and darkness combined, a perfect picture of a fallen king that hadn't lost an inch of his proud and manners. Shadows danced and moved restlessly under his feet, as if trying to escape him and somehow it was a beautiful sight. His grey skin glittered a bit under the silvery light, yet his expression was nothing like Jack had expected to see.

There was understanding, as if he knew exactly what Jack had been feeling for the last hundred years. There was a twisted kind of compassion that didn't fit him, but sent a warm wave right on Jack's frozen heart. A warmth that felt strangely familiar and terrifying at the same time, that he didn't know how to accept but enjoyed the feeling anyway.

"I have many names, but I suppose you may call me Pitch Black." His voice was as soft as the night involving them, dangerous and hungry, yet Jack didn't move away as he should've done. "Why are you talking to the Moon, child?"

"Because... I need to know why I'm here..."

"You're asking the wrong person." Pitch Black said simply, but Jack noticed how the shadows grew angrier for a mere moment and then dying away as quickly. "Tell me your name."

It wasn't a question. It was an order barely disguised under soft words, and the child's trembling grip on his staff tightened a bit more, the overwhelming fear that came from nowhere at all invading every inch of his body once more.

"Jack Frost. That's what the Moon told me..."

Pitch Black hummed with satisfaction and a shadow of smile appeared on his lips for no longer than a second before he stepped back into the darkness he had came from. And in that moment Jack felt panic overcoming the fear, because if Pitch left it'd mean he'd be all alone again. It'd mean no one would talk to him for a long time, and that mere thought was enough to make him feel like hyperventilating. He knew it was stupid and childish but it was stronger than him.

"Wait!" Jack screeched, louder than he had expected, but fortunately it made Pitch stop moving away, standing too still, waiting for him to say something else. "I mean... I need to know. So could you... Could you tell me? You're the first person to talk to me in a really long time..."

The dark figure melted into shadows without a sound before the child could keep pleading, but Jack felt the powerful presence still there, circling him once more as a wolf would do to a prey, the golden stare burning his skin, painful as a flame against his fragile ice.

"Is that what you wish, child?"

"I..don't want to be alone anymore. Please."

Gold turned into silver for a mere moment under the moonlight, and Pitch's smile grew almost manically but before Jack had enough time to be scared grey fingers reached out for him, a silent promise that said as clear as day he'd never escape that hold once he stepped into the dark. The moon seemed to shine a bit brighter over his head, as if trying to push the darkness away, yet he paid little attention to it, completely focused on the dark spirit offerring him so much in so little time. Why should he care about the stupid moon now, after being _ignored_ and **abandoned** for a hundred years by the one he had considered a father before?

"Have no fear, little snowflake."

The sweetness on the melodic voice was enough to enchant him over and over again, shoving his hesitation and anxiety away. Jack didn't even notice the moment he stepped closer, his breath stuck on his throat when he wrapped his fingers around long ones and didn't pass through them as it had happened so countless times before. It was a real touch, and the winter child couldn't name the feelings washing over him as powerful as a tidal wave. Pitch's skin was just too warm, almost overheated yet he didn't move away because he knew he had felt such warmth before but couldn't remember when.

"Nothing goes better together than cold and dark, after all."

The second darkness overcame his sight, he wasn't scared about what was about to come sooner or later. For some reason, he knew that he'd never be alone again - and it was all _worth_ it.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	2. Comfortable

_**I swear I had a list somewhere that I should be following while writing these drabbles... Oh well, welcome to the next chapter!  
By the way, there isn't a real timeline on the drabbles. Sorry about it~**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of The Guardians.**_

 _Chapter updated: 04/21/16_

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 _ **Summary: In which Pitch remembers how to get some comfort.**_

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 _ **02\. Comfortable (1815)  
** Guardians_

After a few millennias of existence as the Nightmare King, Pitch had grown fond of the endless solitude and loneliness. Humans abominated him or brushed him off as a simple bedtime story, an old tale that no one should be scared of anymore. The other spirits couldn't even understand his true purpose, why he existed. Simple minds that never dared to think about something else than their pathetic lives and happy times were completely _disgusting_ , and he rejected them as much as they hated him. He didn't need their fake happiness that sooner or later would be over, lost forever in a world of darkness and cold. He didn't need those despicable feelings as love and joy, for he was a creature of darkness and such gruesome feelings didn't exist for him anymore. He only needed the shadows and the fear, his only true friends, the ones that had never abandoned him before.

And he had really believed in it for a long time. What else would he need but fear and solitude and darkness?

And then there was Jack Frost invading his life all of sudden, making a mess of everything he touched, turning the world upside down. There was Jack and his doubts that piled up more and more each passing day. Jack and his easy smile that had ignited some life back into the mess that was the Boogeyman's body and spirit. Jack and his unmatching way of looking at things as they truly were, as if he was older than his hundred years, sometimes wiser than Old Man Winter himself. Jack and his powerful fear that were more than enough to feed him for a whole year if Pitch desired.

But Pitch didn't and if someone asked why, he didn't have an answer for that.

Maybe it was Jack's carefree spirit, or that weird way of his of getting anything he desired from Pitch with no more than a few sentences. Maybe it was that foolish paternal feeling trying to push past his defenses, his old, long forgotten self trying to feel something else than the darkness he had been drowning for the last centuries. Or maybe it was Jack's _absurd_ yet **admirable** courage, for he was the only child that dared to mess with the Boogeyman himself without fear of what would happen to him in the end because no matter what happened, the only thing that really mattered to the winter child was the attention and care that Pitch Black gave him day after day since they became the most dysfunctional family he had heard of in that stupid, fragile planet. Maybe it was because deep inside he knew he longed for companionship more than he'd ever admit, and the winter spirit had been the only one worth of his time and patience and tainted care.

Maybe it was because Jack _cared about him_ , because Jack respected him and his work.  
Maybe it was because Jack had pushed the darkness away from his core unwillingly.

And he rejoiced on every little treat, every act of selfless devotion coming from the eternal child. Not that the Boogeyman would ever say it out loud, of course.

Jack Frost was the only child on Earth that got something else apart nightmares from the Nightmare King and the only child that ever would again.  
Jack Frost was the only child that _dared_ to force the terrifying Pitch Black to **climb up on a tree** in the middle of the night, coming up with the most childish excuse he could've think of.

"I want to see the stars tonight, Pitch. This is the best place in the woods!"

And he had agreed with that. He had allowed Jack to play him as much as he wanted, until they were in the top of a tree, watching the bright stars shining against the dark sky, Jack rejoicing at every shooting star they spotted through the hours. And he watched in pure, complete awe as Jack clung at him as if the King of Nightmares was the most important person in the world, snuggling his cold body against Pitch's only to get as comfortable as he could be. Pitch didn't move for a long moment, speechless and starstruck. The unsettling sensations swirled on his chest, bringing back memories of golden days that he had cherised so much before and now were only dust and cracked images, and for the first time in forever he allowed himself to lurk in those feelings for a little longer than necessary.

Before Pitch could stop himself, his own body was moving against his will. He pulled Jack closer, arms getting wrapped protectively around the winter child that only giggled in response, turning on the branch to embrace the Boogeyman's neck and hide his face on the crook of his grey neck.

"Hey, Pitch..." The child's voice was soft, filled with sleep and contentment. "You think the stars can really make wishes come true? Because... I've wished for something today."

"I think they may help you half the way. They're incomplete works, after all." Jack giggled at his blank statement, and Pitch didn't even try to stop the smile that formed on his lips at the sweet sound. His arms pressed the child closer, enjoying the coldness soothing his overheated skin, the frost spreading through his dark clothes and creating the most beautiful patterns no one would ever replicate again. "What is it you've wished for?"

"I've wished for us to be believed in." And Pitch Black found himself speechless once more. Why would anyone want it after all the cruel, horrid things he had done in the past? Why would someone want to the Boogeyman to be believed in, when all he brought was fear and terror? That was another of the reasons he'd never understand Jack Frost completely, and he wasn't sure if he really wanted to. Fortunately the child didn't notice his shock, too sleepy to really pay attention to anything else happening around him in that moment. A soft yawn escaped his blueish lips along with a smile. "It's a silly wish, isn't it?"

He wanted to say yes, it was pretty silly and childish to wish upon a star, verging the stupidity. It was silly because the stars had never helped anyone before and wouldn't start helping anyone soon. They were selfish, incomplete creatures that only cared about how they shone brightly. It was stupid because no one would ever believe in him - _in them_ \- as long as the Guardians lived only to interrupt his work, shooing his nightmares away with their hopes and dreams and wonder. It was cruel because no matter what they did, the mortals would always choose to believe in good dreams and long summers. He wanted to say it out loud, to make Jack understand that world was cruel and ruthless and they'd never get what they really wished but impossibly blue eyes stared up at him, full of hope and expectations.

He had seen such a glance before, in a long time ago. He had held someone just as tighty, someone that he had cared deeply for. Someone he had dared to **love** and call his child, his most precious possession, and for a long moment he wondered if he deserved to feel like that again, after all the horrid things he had done through the times.

Little fingers curled on his shoulders as if the winter spirit had just heard his thoughts, the cold touch sending shocking, yet calming waves down his distressed body. And twice on the same night Pitch Black caught himself smiling gently at the child on his arms, ignoring the darklings slamming at his chest. Tonight they wouldn't win, he promised. Tonight would be a sweet night he knew they deserved, and nothing would spoil it.

"No, my child. It's not silly at all." Pitch said softly, his smile widening as Jack hummed in response and finally drifted into a dreamless sleep, too tired to keep himself awake. He hadn't noticed how much he had missed such carefree, simple moments until now. Once more the shadows growled within him and he pushed them away, adjusting himself on the branch, the cold waves emanating from Jack's body lulling the Boogeyman into sleep as well.

Maybe they could share other comfortable moments more often.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	3. Afraid

_**So many views already! Thank you~**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of The Guardians.**_

 _Chapter updated: 05/22/2016_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack remembers how to fear the Boogeyman.**_

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 _ **03\. Afraid (1968)  
** Lightbringer_

Jack Frost never got scared easily, yet there were some things that always pushed him far his limits no matter how much he tried to ignore that overwhelming feeling that hit him stronger than an avalanche. It was like a poison burning his blood under his veins, constricting his breath and blanking his mind before he could have enough time to focus on something else, and he hated it. He hated himself for being so weak, so useless. What kind of seasonal spirit couldn't _control_ their own powers? It didn't matter if he was just a child in immortal years, he **should** be able not to lose control whenever his emotions took the best of him because he had been taught well enough through the centuries. Unfortunately the blizzard roaring loudly around the town said otherwise, and the situation that should be no more than a harmless prank was getting only worse and out of control every passing minute. He knew he had messed up badly this time, that Pitch wouldn't forgive him for breaking another rule of his _again_. It meant _no one_ would come to save him, and if it wasn't enough to bring him to the verge of a panic attack, a giant and furious Pooka was.

There was something just _wrong_ about the Guardian of Hope, to say the least. His mere presence made the winter child quiver in pure fear, and no matter how hard he tried Jack never understood completely that overwhelming feeling of **hopelessness** and horror that assaulted him whenever he got too close to the Easter Bunny, forcing him to stay away as much as he could. Pitch Black himself, the Nightmare King, the same person that his only goal in life was to _destroy_ the Guardians of Childhood, told him to stay out of their way unless he wanted something really bad to happen.

Well, ruining the very Easter Sunday could be qualified as 'bad'.

His fingers curled and uncurled around the magical staff as his breathing become more erratic and painful than before. He was hyperventilating, his frozen lungs seeming to crack a bit more at every harsh breath. The muscles of his back screamed in pain when Bunnymund forced him against a tree, every inch of his body almost begging him to run, to flee at once because that was a match he couldn't win without help. And even if he _could_ fight back, everything around him only served to fuel his distress and his shock more and more. The blizzard was furious than ever, the rotten tendrils of fear squeezing his heart in an agonizing way every moment Bunnymund yelled at him.

 **Useless**. Selfish. A _nuisance_.  
A good for nothing troublemaker.

Yet there wasn't enough time to the cruel words to sink in, for a dark creature emerged from their shadows, pushing the giant Pooka away. Its mere presence demanded respect and compliance, a dangerous aura emanating from every inch of his body as Pitch Black stood taller than Bunnymund, amber eyes shining in malice and anger. If in that moment he was a King protecting his servant or a father protecting his child, Jack never cared to know. The familiar darkness coming from the Boogeyman embrassed him in less than a second, taking the staff away from his hands, squeezing his fragile body and almost crushing his bones. Not that it would ever happen, yet the breathtaking sensation was enough to make him completely, utterly _terrified_.

The Nightmare King wasn't just angry. He was **furious**.

"I hope you've learned your lesson, Jackson."

Jack Frost didn't dare to disobey Pitch again for at least thirty years or so.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya!~**_


	4. Bored

_**Oh hey! Thank you for your sweet reviews and follows and favorites, it makes me really happy! And let me know if you have any requests, guys. I live to please~**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of The Guardians.**_

 _Chapter update: 05/22/2016_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack learns how to never get bored again.**_

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 _ **04\. Bored (1973)  
** Lightbringer_

"Pitch, I'm _bored_."

It took him an entire minute to really comprehend those simple words, and yet he didn't really believe they had come from _Jack_ 's lips. Jack Frost, the definition of fun itself, couldn't be **simply bored**. Not when he was a devilish imp with a never-ending imagination and an impossibly energetic child that always able to create the most terrible, annoying tricks he could think of at the most obnoxius of times. Maybe the moon or even the very skies were about to fall over their heads at any moment, for there was no other reasonable or logic explanation for such a chaotic situation than the end of the world approaching sooner than later - and for _once_ Pitch Black couldn't be blamed for that. Oh the **joys**. He moved to look back at the winter child, only to have his deepest worries confirmed. Jack was just half sat, half laid on the dark throne, with such a blank expression plastered on his face that for a moment Pitch wondered if spirits could get sick or if the world was really at its end, because that was the first time in their life together that he had really seen Jack Frost quiet and still for more than three seconds when he was awake.

"And I wonder why."

"I have _nothing_ to do." The annoyed child groaned from his spot, not even looking up at the dark spirit. "It's too hot to go out, the mares won't play with me and you're too busy brooding over whatever you're planning to do against the Guardians."

Well someone was in a foul mood today, not that he could really blame the boy. It _was_ insufferably hot outside and his poor mares were more than angry for being frozen over and over again by a winter child, but he had noticed something else. There was something wrong about Jack's tone and his whole posture and Pitch couldn't place a finger on what it was. Dealing with _awaken_ children had never been his strongest trait and yet he couldn't just ignore that unnerving feeling nugging at his stomach as much as he'd like to. It was always a shock to see how much he had grown fond of the boy through the years, and what once had been a poor excuse of gathering power by Jack's fear had become a twisted concept of 'family' he still hadn't accepted completely.

"I'm not... brooding." The Boogeyman finally replied, moving close enough to stand tall and terrifying. Unfortunately Jack was too used to that old trick to care now, and the child simply turned on the throne to give his back to Pitch. "And **you** have _plenty_ of things to do. Let's see... You can fetch us some tea. You can clean all the mess you've done in the library. You can help me skin those children the Nightmares brought home last night..."

And in that moment Pitch Black needed all his willpower not to laugh at Jack's absolutely _priceless_ reaction. The child bolted around so quickly and so suddenly on the throne that he barely kept his balance as he turned, his blue eyes wide and shining in an adorable mix of shock, disbelief and fear. It seemed the boy would never learn, and that was what made things between them so tolerable, what made everything work so perfectly. After a few seconds of uncomfortable and heavy silence, the Boogeyman felt lips curling up in a shadow of smile, and every inch of Jack's body relaxed at the sight as suddenly as he had tensed up before.

"You're... _joking_."

"I have my moments. Now go make yourself useful at once or you _will_ be skinning children for a week."

He had never seen Jack rushing out of a room so promptly before, leaving a trail of frost and panic behind him. And surprisingly, the winter child never complained about _being bored_ ever again after that.

Well, it was **worth it**.

* * *

 _ **Thank ya for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	5. Curious

_**Wooo, look at all these follows and favorites! I'm in love with all you guys!**_  
 _ **Now, let me know if you guys have any request! It'd make me really happy to fill them~**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

 _Chapter update: 05/22/2016_

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 _ **Summary: In which Pitch makes a promise.**_

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 _ **05\. Curious (1838)  
** Guardians_

Jack Frost wasn't a _simple_ curious child. He was the embodiment of curiosity itself, and Pitch should be grateful for his never-ending patience to deal with such a wild spirit. His endless questions couldn't be saciated quickly or by simple answers, and he never gave up easily. It took Pitch at least ten years to make the boy understand and accept **some** explanations about his powers and their lives as spirits, maybe more. Yet it had felt just right, even if he couldn't understand those 'good' feelings trying to blossom within him. In fact the Boogeyman rejoiced every time Jack asked for another story, another tale about the Golden Age, and for the first time in his life he allowed someone to run around his lair and get lost in the maze of shadows and darkness that was _their_ home. Even that seemed not to be enough to quiet the winter child down for more than a few hours, for no matter how many times he had explored the lair through and through, he always seemed to find something new, different or exciting in his adventures. His room was filled with the most strange 'treasures' and trinkets he found and collected during the years, everything delicately displayed on its right place. Pitch had recognized some things that once had belonged to him during the Golden **and** Dark Ages, and how Jack had got them was still a mystery he wasn't interested in solving.

It was still a wonder how the boy didn't get himself killed yet, for he was too reckless and enthusiast for his own sake.

Well, of course Pitch Black _didn't_ make sure his little snowflake wouldn't get hurt by other spirits. _Of course_ he didn't send some of his Nightmares and Fearlings to keep an eye on the child to make sure he was safe all the time when he was traveling the world.

"Hey Pitch! We found something!"

The loud, joyful voice snapped him out of his thoughts and just in that moment he noticed he had been following Jack around the lair blindlessly for a long time, simply watching as the child ran and played with the smaller Fearlings, the ones he had created specially for the boy not to feel so alone in there and it was still a surprise to see how great it had worked. It seemed children **always** got along, no matter the situation. And talking about that, Jack and his little companions had disappeared into a room Pitch didn't remember it existed at all in his lair. Excited squeaks made it obvious they had found something really interesting this time, and for once he allowed curiosity to infect him, slipping into the room before someone could notice him.

And it took him only a second to understand all that comotion.

The Globe of Belief. The same treacherous thing he had lost so many centuries ago. It was shining brightly as new, showing every child that believed in the Guardians, _mocking_ him with their yellow, suffocating lights. Why hadn't he destroyed it back then? He couldn't really recall the reasons, nor why he kept it in there until now. Well it didn't matter in that moment, for something else caught his attention. The little Fearlings squeaked loudly once more, trying to reach the **shining pretty thing** but Jack wouldn't allow them, keeping them safely tugged into his arms at the same time his eyes were completely focused on the lights, full of wonder and curiosity. It was quite an adorable sight indeed.

Pitch stepped closer, touching the child's shoulder gently. A soft nod was more than enough to make Jack understand his intentions, and in the next moment the Fearlings were clawing and screeching at the bright lights, almost as if they just wanted the little things to jump out of their sockets and play around with them. Jack just giggled in response, yet his eyes still hadn't left the Globe. He wanted to know what it was, and he kept examining every continent and country for a long minute, trying to figure out by himself what such a strange thing meant. When he finally gave up, his eyes moved to stare up at the Nightmare King, the questions all written over his pale face. How could Pitch hold back his laughter at such a childish expression, he never knew.

"This is the Globe of Belief, child." The older spirit finally said, stepping closer to the fallen orb. How easy it'd be to just burn it to the ground and pretend it'd be enough to destroy the Guardians as well. Unfortunately he knew Jack would never allow him to commit that horrible crime against a new treasure. "Every light you see is a child that believes in the Guardians, a child that believes in wonder, hope and sweet dreams. That's why the Guardians protect them, because a child's belief is their source of power. When a light goes out, it means a child doesn't believe anymore. There's a downside of being a Guardian, dear. If all the lights die away, the Big Four cease to exist as well."

A soft, surprised noise coming from Jack's lips didn't go unnoticed, and in a blink of an eye his fears were filling the room almost completely. Good darkness it was sweetly **intoxicating** , and Pitch Black needed all his might to ignore the creatures tugging at his chest, begging to feed on that powerful, _delicious_ fear. It was Jack Frost, his precious child, shuddering in desperation and fear of being all alone again. He couldn't simply take advantage of him in that moment. His grip around the child's shoulder tightened for a second before he moved his fingers up and through white locks, a gentle attempt to calm Jack down that always worked.

"Hush, snowflake. There will always be fear in this world, and as long as it exists, so shall I. We'll be together forever, I _promise_."

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	6. Alone

**_Well it_** _was_ **_a songfic. My stupid brain decided to go into a more depressing thing *sigh*  
I hope you enjoy the new version of this chapter!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

 ** _Warnings:_** _Self-harming, depression, etc._

 _Chapter updated: 07/08/2016_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack is alone... again.**_

* * *

 _ **06\. Alone (1840)  
**_ _Lightbringer_

If he had to list every _horrid_ thing that could've happened to him, loneliness would surely be on top.

He could deal with being beaten by other spirits. Pain helped him remember he was there, he was real and not just a ghost pretending to exist. It helped him remember he could feel more than the endless cold wrapped around his heart and body. Well sometimes he really **deserved** the beatings. Freezing entire islands and forests only for fun ( _and for that was the only way he knew of getting someone's attention_ ), forgetting about the creatures and warm spirits living in there, was always a _terrible_ idea. He could deal with being yelled at, because someone was at least talking to him. He could deal with Fearlings trying to taint his frozen heart because he was an eternal child and on his eyes they were just playing another game.

He could deal with the Boogeyman himself and his nightmares. _That_ was the easy part of his life. He could deal with cruel tricks and jumpscares in the middle of the night, with the pure and raw fear assaulting his very soul when Pitch Black was in a foul mood because that was the way their relationship ( _or whatever was going on between them_ ) truly worked.

But he _couldn't deal_ with loneliness, with the solitude that clung at his skin and didn't let go. All those years of being completely alone and ignored had left painful scars and deep wounds in his soul, it had left his spirit shattered and marred. No matter how much he tried it was simply impossible to forget about all those days he cried to the Moon for some answers. It was impossible to forget how he begged and craved for some attention, the emptiness and agony that seemed to consume him slowly, day after day until finally, _finally_ someone approached him and offered him much more than he had ever dreamed of. And it mattered nothing if that person was the King of Nightmares.

He couldn't even describe the utter happiness that washed over him the moment Pitch simply _acknowlegded_ his existence.

For the first time in forever someone had talked to him, had seen him and **touched** him. For the first time in his life he felt real, wanted, loved in the most **twisted** way he could think of - but _loved_ nonetheless. Pitch had taken care of his scars and sent his fears away ( _or simply fed on them until there was nothing left to feel at all, not that Jack ever cared to know_ ). For the first time he had someone but the Wind to play with, and they had played and lied and manipulated each other with mastered perfection until the Nightmare King finally gave up and decided to treat him like part of a tainted, almost comical version of family. The winter child couldn't be more happy, because he wasn't alone anymore.

And then the sweet spell keeping his perfect little world from falling apart was broken.

He hadn't noticed it at first. Pitch had disappeared before countless times before, and for the first weeks Jack didn't get worried. The Boogeyman had always returned, sooner or later. _He_ will _come back again_ , the boy told himself. Pitch always did.

But as weeks turned into months and the Nightmare King hadn't showed up yet, Jack finally decided it was time to start panicking. He looked for the Boogeyman in every corner, every shadow and dark alley in the world without success. He searched in their lair through and through, only to find out the Fearlings were gone as well. The mares were nothing but piles of rotten, shrunk sand piled up here and there that seemed to have no power at all. It seemed Pitch Black had simply faded away from existence ( _but it wasn't possible because Pitch was fear itself and fear couldn't disappear just like that_ ), yet it took him a few days of roaming through the silent, dead lair to realize it. And when the truth finally dawned on him, for the first time in almost thirty years he truly felt fear and despair gripping at his soul, burning and twisting his already fragile spirit.

And for the first time he sought another spirits that didn't belong to the Dark Circle ( _because no one in there had heard a word about Pitch, and some were as worried as him_ ), desperated and scared. He approached the Guardians of Childhood and their nests, in hopes those blasted creatures were keeping the Boogeyman locked away somewhere but he couldn't be more **disappointed**. It wasn't just because they didn't even know who Jack Frost was ( _it had happened so many times before, why should he expect such great entities to know a thing about_ _ **him**_ _?_ ), but they also claimed they knew nothing about Pitch Black nor his whereabouts. No matter what the winter child did, no matter where he looked, the Nightmare King was nowhere to be found.

He was utterly, completely alone, and it hurt so badly it almost felt like someone ripped his heart out of his chest.

And for the first time in a long time, Jack _wept_.

"Please tell me!" The child caught himself yelling at the moon one night, broken and lost enough not to care about the fact he was just humilliating himself for someone that never cared about him. "I'll do anything! Just tell me where he is!"

But he should know better than plea to the cruel, silent commander of the moon.

As month passed by slowly, turning into agonizing years, Jack felt his world crumbling to pieces right in front of his eyes and he could do nothing but sit and watch it. Realization felt bitter on his tongue as he was forced to swallow the truth, cold and harsh as the blizzards he created all over the world. He wasn't necessary. If **Pitch Black** had left him, who else would want his company? He was nothing more than a troublemaker, making a mess out of everything he touched. He was a failure. Unwanted, unloved, invisible to the children he cherished so much _(and for what? They'd never see him, they'd never love him as much as he loved them so why should he keep pretending?_ ) and ignored by the Guardians of Childhood themselves, the ones that had promised to keep every child in the world safe and happy.

He _was_ a child. He could've denied it to Pitch before but only as a joke, a way to keep the Boogeyman playing with him and tormenting him with his stupid tricks. Yet he was still a child that had been abandoned by the ones that should've protected him and that mere fact had been enough to bring icy tears to his eyes more than once during that lonely, hopeless decade. What had he done to deserve to be abandoned over and over again? It must've been something _terribly hideous_ , for nothing else could justify it. Nothing else **would**.

And at some point during that long time he had stopped counting the days and weeks and months. There was no more fun in snowstorms, and there was no more beauty on the snowflakes he crafted only to try to forget. He had never forgotten, and what once had brought him so much proud and love for his powers were now simply dull, lifeless pieces of snow. Not that humans had ever noticed the subtle changes, of course. No one ever noticed it but the Wind, and even her had given up on her frail attempts to make him happy. Her presence wasn't enough anymore, yet she never left.

As if he'd really care if she did. No... He'd _understand_ her. Why would she **want** to be around a broken spirit when even Jack was getting too tired of himself, after all?

Another sob escaped azure lips as the child found himself weeping once more, ignoring the Wind's pleas for him to talk to her. There was nothing she could do to help, to prevent that void on his chest from growing wider and hungrier day after day. Once more he wished he could die so his torment would finally have an end, but the man hiding in the moon had been heartless and denied him the peace of resting forever in the moment he created Jack Frost, because ignoring and mocking him for almost two hundred years _wasn't enough torture_ , of course. A loud sob wrecked his body and echoed from the silent forest, and again he wondered why no one would come to soothe and help a child crying in agony.

Maybe because he wasn't a child, after all.  
Maybe he was some kind of... monster. That would explain everything, right?

Instead it just made him wail louder, fingers digging into the fragile skin of his arms and tearing it. Pain had helped him to forget once, to think about something else but the anguish crawling and chewing at his soul, at his very center but now it felt as useful as the Wind howling around him, trying to get his attention and failing again and again. He didn't want to listen to her pleas, yet she was as stubborn as him and didn't stop until he looked up and **snarled** at her attempts - but she only stopped because Jack had finally seen what she had noticed hours ago.

 ** _Pitch Black_**.

And in that moment Jack didn't even try to understand the turmoil of feelings that assaulted his chest at full force, leaving him breathless and paralyzed. It couldn't be... Pitch- Pitch didn't _want_ him anymore. No one wanted him, so what was the spirit doing there? Maybe he just came to mock and hurt him just as other spirits had done, and that was the only logical explanation for the Boogeyman to be back from the dead. His body seemed to agree with his confused mind, and before he could notice it Jack felt himself moving against the tree, whimpering pathetically for someone to help him - but no one had ever cared, no one but the man standing a bit **too close** , ready to strike him at any moment.

It was just _so unfair_...

"Jack?"

Pitch's voice sounded too soft and too alien, and for a second Jack had wondered if the Boogeyman had always possessed such a sweet voice. He couldn't really remember and he didn't have enough time to focus. A warm hand rested on his hair, sending painful yet wonderful waves down his trembling body. The child wept softly, suddenly too weak to move away, too broken to be scared of whatever Pitch would do to him. He didn't care anymore, he just wanted to... And then there were strong arms around him, pulling him closer to an overheated chest. There were soothing, gentle words being whispered against his ear, making him cry in pure rage and happiness at the same time. There was the Fearlings embracing him tightly, claiming him as theirs, clinging at his shadow and body in a silent reminder of a promise made a long time ago.

"Pitch..."

"I'm so sorry, my snowflake."

He _belonged_ to the darkness.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	7. Devastated

_**Hello, dearies! Thank you for all your reviews, follows and favorites! It makes me really happy~  
As requested, this chapter is a Pitch's version of the previous chapter (Alone). Not my best chapter, but oh well, I hope you like it!  
**_

 _ **If you have any other requests, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of The Guardians.**_

 _Chapter update: 08/28/2016_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Pitch is determined to go home.**_

* * *

 ** _07\. Devastated (1830-1840)  
_** _Lightbringer_

Pitch Black had been a terrible monster, an _almost unstoppable_ force and there was no doubt of it. He had destroyed countless planets and entire races only because he could, he had killed and tortured anyone that dared to stand against him and he had wiped the entire Golden Age away with a flick of hand. He had been called the King of Nightmares for thousands of hundred years for a very good reason and he had been _**oh so damn proud**_ of it. He had been powerful and feared during the Dark Age, and nothing changed even after his downfall, when those stupid Guardians had thought they could've destroyed him. Not even Tsar Lunar himself had enough power to kill Fear completely. There wasn't a single race in the entire cosmos that didn't fear - for even _gods_ could dread the end, the complete forgetfulness. As long as Fear existed, so would he. And for another thousand years he allowed those pathetic "Guardians of Childhood" think he had been defeated ( _at a high cost, he could recall... oh how they still wept for the star child they'd never see again_ ), he allowed them to teast triumph for once because next time... next time he wouldn't be so complacent. For a thousand years he kept himself at bay, roaming in the shadows, learning how to control the Fearlings within him with a mastered perfection. For once he didn't belong to them - _they_ belonged to him, and they obeyed his every order and will. He wasn't as powerful as he had been on Dark Ages indeed, but it didn't mean he couldn't put up a good show.

And just when he was about to strike again ( _even if the moment was terribly inappropriate, even if he was still dreadfully weak_ ), when his plans were almost _too good to be true_ , he had bumped into something he never thought he'd have again so soon.

He had bumped into a child that could _see him,_ _ **touch**_ _him, talk_ _ **to him**_.

Jackson Overland was an exquisite child that changed his mind, his plans with no effort at all. For the first time in a billion years he felt himself attached to a human as if said child was his own offspring, and he had cared _so much_ that the long forgotten memories of his dear daughter made his chest hurt and burn with longing, with a tainted kind of love that stopped him from turning the boy into another mindless Fearling. Instead, the fallen King decided to watch over the child closely, feeding on his childish fears until there was nothing but only happiness filling that young, bright heart. And the darkness within his own heart blamed the twisted humanity still living deep down his soul, buried by countless layers of shadows and Fearlings, yet powerful enough to reach out and _force_ him to care about a human child as deeply as he had loved his girl - that was now _a woman_ , terrifying and powerful, yet one that still refused to look into his eyes whenever they got close enough. Not that he really cared about her as much as he cared about Jackson.

And then his precious boy had died right in front of his eyes, saving the sister he loved and cherised more than his own life.

For the first time in his life as Pitch Black, he couldn't have been more devastated. If he hadn't left the small village to gather more fear, if he had stayed to stop those two reckless children from skating on thin ice... but he had been too late and Lady Fate had claimed his boy before he could do anything to save him. With heavy heart he decided to stay and cling at the fragile, frozen soul - keeping him cold but safe in the darkness until Death decided to show up and take him. But for some reason she never came, and instead the moonlight shone over the lake, pushing his shadows and Pitch himself away, breathing life into the small body and pulling the scared soul back into place. Lunar had given the boy a new life and a new name but no memories at all, and he gave Pitch a son to care and love with no fear of losing the child again to Death. His tainted heart seemed to burn brighter in a way he couldn't even understand it, and gratitude washed over him with the force of a tidal wave breaking against the sand.

But it didn't take him long to comprehend Lunar's reasons.

It wasn't a simple gift.  
It was a _peace offer_.

An immortal child that would forever believe in him in exchange of harmless nightmares and measured fears for the rest of the children on Earth.

The fallen King hadn't even need to think twice before leaping into the offer. How could he care about countless children that didn't even see him when he could praise that one that would never die and would believe in him _forever_? He accepted Lunar's conditions and even left the boy alone for a few years ( _so he could learn about the world and his powers by himself, Lunar had said_ ) before approaching once more. Solitude had left its marks on the boy, but Pitch would make sure to heal those marks quickly - and he **loved** the frost child as fiercely as he had loved his daughter once, in golden times. The boy was no different from the human child he had been, despite his years of pure loneliness. He was still caring and happy, a trickster with no limits at all. He made Pitch laugh and play and feel like the lost man he had once been in a long time ago.

Jack had changed his life completely even before the spirit of fear had noticed it, and soon enough the boy had become the most important thing he had ever had.

And then, the Guardians found out he was still alive, minding his own business. He had believed Lunar had warned his little soldiers of their deal, but to his surprise and raging fury the commander of the moon had said _nothing_ to them. He had fought tooth and nail but it was for naught - he ended up caught and humiliated once more, locked away in the depths of Sandman's realm, as if all that light would be enough to stop him from escaping. And he _would_ escape, no matter what. He could feel Jack's fears growing dangerously quickly through the months of his imprisonment. The Guardians had left him all alone, completely blind to his existence as always, and that realization made the anger and hatred burn within him. How dared they separate him from his precious child to then ignore him?! They were simply living their lives, doing what they were supposed to do. How dared they interfere so openly? If before Pitch had forgotten about the Guardians' existence, about the countless years of mutual hatred, now he'd make sure they would pay greatly for what they did.

Unfortunately he couldn't do much but wait and allow himself to feed on Jack's fear - for as much as it pained him, that was the only fear he could reach. The Fearlings grown vengeful, hungry and angry. They wouldn't let them down, he promised. The Guardians would learn not to mess with the King of Nightmares and his family anymore.

Ten years passed by quickly. The winter child's fears had been so great that soon enough Pitch had gathered enough power to weaken the bounds keeping him in place, and for some reason he cared not to understand, Lunar had decided he had had enough. The dark side of the moon faced the Earth, offering the master of shadows all the darkness he needed to finally break the golden strands. He stood as tall as he had been on the Dark Ages, and even if the Fearlings begged for him to have their revenge _right now_ he couldn't bring himself to care about those freaks so called Guardians in that moment. Jack was still out there, scared and alone, and he needed to do something in that very moment. He wouldn't allow his precious son to be ignored any other minute.

Shadows engulfed his entire body and it felt so right and so needed that he almost didn't want to leave. A child crying in agony was the only thing that made him step out of his darkened world, anger and regret burning him as the daylight had once done. His frost child looked so small and broken that Pitch needed every inch of self control not to turn back and rip every Guardians' body apart in that very moment. The Wind noticed his presence before Jack did, and she kept poking and pushing him in a silent attempt to make him look up. The King didn't dare to move closer, frozen in place, wondering if Jack would ever forgive him, would ever want to be by his side again... Bright, beautiful blue eyes finally looked up at Pitch, and the sudden wave of panic that hit him square in the chest almost made him choke.

His boy, his dear boy was... scared _of him_.  
Tears threatened to escape his eyes but he forced them back, pushing the anger aside. He would deal with his rage later, much later.

"Jack?"

His voice sounded as gently as he could, stepping closer slowly. The child resembled a hurt, wild animal, shielding himself away from other's touch. It was... heartbreaking, and he couldn't take that anymore. In a swift movement he pulled the frost spirit against his chest, whispering sweet words against his ear, allowing the Fearlings to wrap themselves around the boy as a protective, warm blanket - and Pitch stood still for what seemed to be hours, feeling the boy's tears on his shoulder, watching him cry freely for the pain forced on his young soul, for the years of solitude he had been forced to face. Jack didn't deserve that... but no matter now. Now he would take care of the frost child and make sure no one would hurt him again.

"I'm so sorry, my snowflake."

 _No one._

"I'll never leave you again."

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	8. Furious

_**Yay, two chapters in a day! I'm quite inspired today. I hope you guys like it!  
Oh, before I forget: this chapters and the next two ones will be connected.**_

 _ **If you have any request, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of The Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack gets kidnapped by a giant bunny.**_

* * *

 _ **8\. Furious**_

After three hundred years of existence, two centuries living under the Nightmare King's care and a couple of scars here and there, Jack Frost had been sure there was _nothing_ else that could surprise him. There was no place in the world he hadn't visited. There was no dream or nightmare he hadn't seen. He had been sure there was nothing else he could expect to happen in his life.

How wrong he was.

He never expected to be kidnapped by a giant Pooka in the middle of the night, even after the Blizzard of '68.

He never expected to be thrown into a magic portal right into the North Pole, at the feet of the Big Four.

But what really hit him hard and fast was the main reason for all that sudden, stupid situation.

"You guys... want _me_ to be a Guardian?"

If they knew him a bit better, they'd notice the slight changes on his behavior. They wouldn't take the _softness_ in his voice as friendly. They'd be wary of the way he stood still, the wind swirling around his frozen body dangerously.

If the Guardians knew _anything_ about Jack Frost, they'd notice how **angry** he really was.

"Choose someone else. I'm not interested."

"We didn't choose you. It was Man in Moon, Jack. He thinks you can help us to stop Pitch."

Now he wasn't angry anymore. He got angry when Pitch disappeared without a word. He got angry when Bunnymund ignored him, or Sandman brushed him off because he was 'messing with his dreams'. He got angry at Man in Moon for years and years of pure silence.

No, he wasn't angry.

Jack Frost was simply furious.

And even if the winter child knew he shouldn't let his emotions take control over his actions, it was really hard to concentrate when the Guardians were still talking and the elves making so much noise. He could feel the blizzard inside him getting angry and stronger, and for a moment he wondered if it'd be really that bad to unleash it right there. Gladly the Wind brushed his hair gently and nugged at his side, and before he noticed it Jack was standing in the Globe of Belief, eyes focused on the bright moon shining over his head.

"Three hundred years of **nothing** , and that's your answer?!" He noticed the Guardians finally stopped talking, and he didn't miss the soft flickering on the moonlight, yet he couldn't care less. "And you couldn't even tell me yourself! Well, I'm not joining your weirdo group! I'm no Guardian and I'll never be!"

"Jack, please..." Toothiana's voice was gentle as she floated closer to him, but it didn't ease his anger as she should've expected. "We need your help."

"Isn't that funny?" He took a deep breath as he leaned against his staff, ignoring the frost slowly covering the Globe under his bare feet. "I kinda remember very well of _how much_ you guys helped me in the past three hundred years."

The guilt and shock on her features were so clear that he almost felt bad for snapping at the Tooth Fairy like that. But he wasn't lying, was he? Pitch had been the only one to care for him, and now they were simply asking him to **betray** the Boogeyman because they didn't like a few nightmares running wild.

He'd rather _die_ than do something like that.

"You guys are supposed to protect every child in the world..." His voice sounded weird and tired as the anger finally brushed off and he felt suddenly too exhausted to care. "Where were you when I needed it? Just because I'm... _different_ you decided I wasn't _important_?"

The winter child floated over the Globe slowly, looking for something he knew it existed - and there it was, the same light he used to watch every night before going to sleep. His light. On the Guardians' globe, it didn't glow bright and full as it did on Pitch's. Here, it flickered over and over, a weak light that would die sooner or later.

"Well, **Pitch** was there for me. The _Boogeyman_ took care of me. He never ignored me or pushed me away. I don't care if he's planning to take over the world or if he's just really pissed at you guys as much as I am... Just leave me alone. It should be _easy_ for you anyway." He didn't wait for an answer nor turned to see the Guardians' faces. He didn't care, not in that moment. "Wind, take me home."

The blizzard roaring loud outside didn't surprise him at all.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya later~**_


	9. Panicky

_**Oh look! Another long chapter! I'm sorry it took me so long to write it, but I couldn't make up my mind about some details. Well, I hope you guys like it! And thank you so much for all those lovely reviews, they make me really happy!**_

 _ **Kidbuussister: You're welcome, dear!  
AyameKitsune: I think I can make something special for you~ just wait!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of The Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack almost buries the world in snow.**_

* * *

 _ **9\. Panicky**_

The blizzard that roared louder and louder on his ears was _nothing_ compared to the one raging inside him, slamming against his chest over and over again, trying to get free. He felt so numb and so angry all at the same time, his mind far away from what was happening around him. He could feel his grip on the magical staff tightening each passing second, but the storm within his frozen center couldn't let him concentrate.

The Guardians really **believed** he'd join them after everything they had done to him!  
They had ignored him or pushed him away countless times for the past three hundred years, and now because they needed something... now he was _useful_?

It hurt. It hurt more than he'd ever admit.  
He had tried everything to get a little attention, some kind of affection only to be kicked away everytime. The only one that always had been there for him was Pitch Black and now they were simply asking him to betray the Nightmare King, and deep inside he knew that was the only reason he was so furious.

Pitch cared for him. Pitch had loved him when everyone else had thrown him away. Pitch had protected him when the other spirits hurt him. The Boogeyman taught him how to control his powers when his emotions took over his senses...

And there was the wind and the blizzard louder than before, brushing off any thought he had been thinking. He never felt so lonely in his life, not even Pitch had left him. The winter child fell on his knees and screamed until his throath got sure, but his voice got lost in the mess of snow and ice around him.

He was _dangerous_ , **they** had said. Winter was a terrible season. It didn't bring joy, only death and cold. _Nothing good_ ever came from winter.

He could feel his throath bleeding as he started screaming again, tears running wild down his cheeks only to freeze on their way. He could feel the blizzard growing stronger, thicker, threatening to break free from the little control he had. The snow felt wrong, too cold and too painful against his face. He tried to push it away, to take some control over his powers... But nothing happened.

And in the moment he noticed there was no going back from that, Jack Frost panicked.

He wanted to cry out for Pitch, because Pitch always knew what to do when he was out of control, but a new wave of panic stroke him right on the guts.

The Boogeyman didn't know **where** he was.  
There was _no one_ around to help him.

His breath got stuck on his lungs, and the fear that washed over his numb body was nothing compared to what he had felt before. He was drowning, being pulled down into the cold and darkness by his own powers, the winter's grip on his soul so tightly he couldn't breathe.

 _Stop it stop it please stop it!_

The pain that bubbled unexpectedly on his cheek woke him up from the nightmare in a second. His eyes snapped open, only to see a whip of black sand that he knew perfectly well... And then it hit his face again, leaving him breathless and dumbstruck.

"And I've really **believed** you've learned how to control yourself. Quite _disappointing_ , I must say. But you should be used to it by now, Jack. You're always making a mess of everything, anyway."

It worked as a slap, fuelling his rage once more.

That wasn't _Pitch Black_ with his soft voice and gentle, warm touches that meant to soothe him. It was the **Boogeyman** , with his sarcastic taunts that would always work on the frost child. It was cruel, indeed, but a necessary evil. Jack stood up in a second, shooting frost against the shadows that just laughed and brushed his attack off like it was nothing.

"And you call yourself my ward! You're not even trying, Frost!"

The immortal child cried out again, charging over and over again only to be pushed away everytime, the taunts getting more cruel and the shadows growing taller with his fear. He never noticed when the blizzard subdued and finally disappeared, along with all the storm that had been assaulting him from the past hours. At some point, he fell to his knees once more, ehxausted and ashamed of himself, sobbing loudly at his weakness.

"Shh... don't cry, snowflake." There were those warm hands touching his back, rubbing his skin soothingly, and Jack leaned against Pitch Black, looking for some comfort, for someone that wouldn't send him away. "You did well. Now, tell me what happened."

And Pitch listened, carefully and patiently as always, an arm wrapped around Jack to keep the child close. The cold didn't bother him, the bruises and pain on his body long forgotten. He could deal with those later. Jack required his complete attention now, and the Nightmake King just smiled when he noticed those bright blue eyes staring up at him, full of fear and tears.

"Why don't we play a game, Jack?" His voice sounded softer than he had expected, but it didn't matter. A long finger traced the boy's cheek, wiping away the frozen tears from his skin. "We'll have a **little fun**. Let's think about it as a race. You join the Guardians, I keep up with my plans. The first to stop the other wins. And if you win, I'll get you something very special."

"B-but if I lose?"

"You don't need to worry about it."

It wasn't like Jack hadn't won _every_ game they played.  
This one wouldn't be different.

* * *

 _ **Thank you all for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya later~**_


	10. Determined

_**Hello again, and sorry for my delay! I really wanted to make a special chapter but I just couldn't write something nice. I deeply apologize for it! ;v;  
This is the final chapter of the 'playing Guardian' arc, and I hope you like it, even if it's really messy.**_

 _ **And again, thank you all for your lovely reviews. It makes me really happy!  
If you have any requests, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack gets his first believer (and almost wins a game).**_

* * *

 _ **10\. Determined**_

He should've known that Pitch would trick him in the most terrible ways they could think of... Hell, how many times had they cheated and manipulated each other before? He had lost count decades, centuries ago. That was the dysfunctional way their relationship worked. They loved and hated each other at the same intensity, and it was as deep as it was unhealthy.

Pitch Black had never played fair.  
Jack Frost had never followed the rules.

 _"We were meant to be together, Jack. What goes better together than cold and dark, after all?"_

So why, why had he _ignored_ the threat hovering above his head like an annoying wisp since the very beginning?

He had accepted Pitch's challenge. They turned that whole 'new Guardian' situation into a dangerous game where someone would get hurt in the end, and somehow it didn't matter in the moment. It was just a new game, and Jack had never lost a game to Pitch before. He was pretty sure his side could win even after Tooth's incident.

But if Sandman had been a _low blow_ , Easter had been absolutely **destructive**.

The deep wound on his forehead still hurt, but the winter child brushed it off gently, trying not to dwell on what had happened. He had really started to believe in the Guardians, he had started to trust in them... he had thought they could've be friends! But Bunnymund had crushed all his hopes cruelly, and the others didn't even try to listen to him. They had just assumed everything and pushed him away as they've done countless times before.

He couldn't understand why it hurt so much this time.

But even if he wanted to run away and hide, he still had a game to win. He couldn't disappoint Pitch. The Boogeyman had even warned him about it, not to get too close with the Guardians because they'd _never_ trust in him, they'd never give him a chance. And once more Pitch had proven himself **right** , but it didn't matter now. The game was almost over, and he had just one chance to turn tables.

And he was determined to end this tonight. No more tricks or cheating.

Locating the Last Light was just too easy - and it wasn't a surprise to see it wasn't _his_ light. It was Jamie Bennett.

And in the moment the mortal child heard him and saw him... Jack couldn't even begin to describe the overwhelming feeling of pure joy and happiness that showered his soul. Three hundred years and finally, **finally** a child could see him! It was the happiest moment in his life.

"Still _protecting_ the Guardians, Jack, even after what they had done to you?" The Boogeyman looked taller than he had ever noticed, and for the first time in forever Jack really feared Pitch Black. The nightmares that never scared him before were beyond terrifying, and the words that reached his ears stung like an infected wound. "Why?"

"Because I'm trying to win. It's still a game, isn't it?"

Jack stepped closer, ready for the attack that never came. Instead, Pitch just smiled.  
It left the winter child dumbstruck.

"So I suppose we should call it a _truce_. You and the Guardians get your hopes and dreams and wonder back, and my nightmares spread fear wherever they're needed, without being hunted down. I call it fair enough. You can't win all the games, my snowflake."

And he _knew_ it. That was a game he couldn't win anymore, and it was unsettling and uncomfortable. He had really wanted to do something better, to make things right for the first time. Jamie held his hand firmly, trembling in fear, looking for some comfort that Jack himself had seeked into Pitch's touch so many times before. And it struck him right on the guts. He smiled at the human child, kneeling down to stare right into brown eyes, his hands gentle on the boy's shoulders.

"It's okay, Jamie. You don't have to be scared anymore. The Boogeyman is real, but you know what?" His voice lowered, as if telling a very important secret, and Jamie's eyes got wide with curiosity. "He's not as bad as he looks. He's just really lonely because no one believes in him anymore. But if you believe in him as I do, he'll get happy and send the nightmares away."

"Y-you think so?"

"I **know** so. He's my dad." Jamie's eyes widened even more, in surprise and disbelief and something that looked like pure wonder. "Hey kiddo, wanna have some fun?"

The Last Light nodded quickly, taking a step back to watch what Jack was planning.  
The snowball hit Pitch Black, the Nightmare King, right on the face.

The Guardians and mares alike snorted at the sight, and Jamie laughed so loud that it was impossible not to join him, except for one **little** thing.

"Jackson?"

 _Uh, oh._

"Run."

* * *

 _ **Don't worry, guys. Jack managed to run away - for a while, I mean. Pitch is really fast, and a**_ _ **grounded Guardian is a cute Guardian, after all /;v;/  
Thanks for reading!~  
See ya!**_


	11. Hopeless

_**Hello again! Thank you so much for your lovely reviews, it means a lot to me~!  
And I'm quite proud of this new chapter, so I hope you guys like it. I've been trying to write it for some time now, but oh well.**_

 _ **PlaidOtaku: I'll try to write a special chapter about this arc in the Guardians' POV~ Just wait, hehehe. And yes they became all budies in the end but we'll see it better in the next chapters**_

 _ **If you guys have any special request, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of The Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack finds comfort in darkness.**_

* * *

 _ **11\. Hopeless**_

Darkness surrounded him, pure and thick. It chased the light away and crushed his memories.  
The cold was **suffocating** , overwhelming. It froze his lungs, his limbs and his heartbeat.

He knew he was drowning, dying - painfully _slowly_.

The waters kept pulling his frozen body down, locking him into its tight embrace, claiming him forever.  
Fear bursted into his spirit, choking him, turning hope into despair. He'd never escape the cold.

It hurt so much to simply **exist**.  
Had he ever _lived_ before that?

He couldn't remember his name. He knew he had a name once, but it slipped away as easily as the warmth had left his body. He felt empty, hopeless, a broken doll that had been tossed aside and forgotten by its owners.

 _"Shh... it's fine. You're fine."_

And then a strange kind of warmth found him, sneaking gently amidst the pure cold. Strong arms pulled him closer and deeper into darkness, but he wasn't scared anymore. The darkness now meant **safety** , company. As long as it was dark, he wouldn't be alone. The touch around him felt feverish, **needy** even. He curled into the embrace that burned his skin, wanting to feel _more_ \- to feel anything else but the cruel cold and pain.

He wanted to cry, to plea for whoever was there to stay forever, to keep him warm and safe but he couldn't find his voice that had died within his body.  
And as the fear of being left all alone again struck him right on his frozen heart, the embrace around him tightened, soft lips creeping over his forehead in an almost kiss.

 _"I'm here, child."_

And for the first time he relaxed, allowing himself to drown into the pleasant warmth.  
But then, after what seemed to last for forever, light invaded his dark world.

The moon, big and bright, chased the darkness and the fear away. The warmth left him just as suddenly, and he wanted to cry out for it to come back. He was cold once more, but even the waters gave up on their grip on his body and he felt himself being pulled up slowly towards the light.

The ice cracked, and fresh air filled his iced lungs. He gasped and choked on the weird feeling. His bare feet touched the ice, but the cold couldn't bother him anymore. He welcomed it as an old friend.

The moonlight stood still for another long moment, its beams brushing his face almost gently.  
Two words echoed softly, a last gift from the bright moon that had taken him away from the darkness - and the warmth he loved so much.

 _"Jack Frost."_

And for the next hundred years he looked for that warm embrace, with only the Wind and the cold by his side.  
When he finally found it again, the winter child couldn't be more happy. He wasn't alone anymore, and this time the Moon couldn't take him away from Pitch Black and his safe arms.

Not that he really wanted it.  
Nothing could go better together than cold and dark, after all.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading~!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	12. Fascinated

_**Hello again, dearies! And hey, almost 1,500 hits and 12 chapters already! I really didn't expect it, nor all your wonderful reviews, follows and favorites! Thank you so much for the love, you all are wonderful! By the way, should I write a summary for the chapters? Let me know what you guys think!**_

 _ **If you have any requests, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of The Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Pitch gets his first believer after thousand years of solitude.**_

* * *

 _ **12\. Fascinated**_

He didn't know what he was really expecting when he changed the Globe of Belief into his own, twisted version that held no lights in it. No one truly believed in him since the Dark Ages, and it made his blood boil in anger under his grey skin. He had been so powerful! Oh the chaos he had spread, the fears and nightmares that had run throughout the world were so _beautiful_... He truly missed them, and the power he wielded back then.

Oh, if he could just find a way to take down those fools called 'Guardians'. If he was just strong enough, feared enough...

"I'm home!"

A cheerful laughter and a cold body clinging at his were more than enough to pull Pitch back from his sturpor, and he didn't even try to stop the smile that creeped up his lips as he stared down at the little bundle in his arms that cared nothing about who he was. The Nightmare King adjusted himself in the dark throne, embracing the winter child gently as Jack buried his face into Pitch's chest, as if he was looking for the warmth he wouldn't feel in his own body ever again.

"My, my. Aren't you an _adorable_ little pest?"

Jack mumbled something that sounded both a protest and an insult, but the Boogeyman paid it no attention, more occupied in running his long fingers through the child's white hair, studying Jack's happy expressions. To say he had always been _fascinated_ by the winter child was the least. No, he knew it was more than simple fascination, he knew he was on the verge of a strange kind of obsession but he couldn't just understand it, and it was driving him crazy everytime Pitch decided to think about their 'relationship'.

Jack didn't _fear_ him as everyone else. Instead he welcomed the darkness, touching and clinging at the Boogeyman whenever he could as if he needed to be sure Pitch was there and wouldn't leave him alone. A hundred years of solitude had left some scars on the poor child.

But no matter what he tried, Pitch couldn't just manipulate the child that was **too smart** for his own good.  
Sometimes he wondered if he really wanted to twist and destroy the sweet innocence and purity that emanated from Jack. He wondered if he could do such a terrible thing to someone that _cared_ so much about him. Jack had brought back some unnamed feelings that had settled well into Pitch's dark heart, and he didn't want to lose it now when it started to feel so right.

"Hey, why is the Globe all weird today?" The winter child asked all of sudden, and Pitch forced himself to pay attention to whatever the boy was talking about. "I mean, it was all bright last night and now it has only one light shining..."

The Boogeyman frowned, golden eyes moving from the child to focus on the Globe of Belief and a shocked gasp bubbled up his throat as he located the source of Jack's curiosity - a lonely light shining _so brightly_ that it alone was enough to enlight that part of the room, chasing the darkness away from the Globe. Before he could stop himself, he moved quickly through shadows, ignoring Jack's indignant yelp of traveling in the darkness all of sudden. Not that the older spirit cared about it now, too focused on the magical globe to pay attention to anything else.

That little light was **white** , so different from the pale yellow ones he had hated so much for countless years.  
Grey fingers touched the light gently, and it didn't fade away as he had expected - _feared_ even. At his touch it seemed to burn brighter and more intently, leaving him breathless for a long moment.

 _A child believed in him._

It didn't take him long to find the place where that **blessed** child was, and he felt his heartbeat speeding at the obvious realization. His grip on Jack's cold body tightened, surely leaving bruises on the poor spirit - but he could feel bad for it later.

There was only one child that lived in the woods of Burgess, right in the spot where his lair was located.  
That child was staring back at him, eyes shining in curiosity and worry.

"Pitch? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, my snowflake. You did a really good thing, in fact..." Jack frowned, confused, and another surprised squeak left him as the Boogeyman hugged him tightly against his warm body. "The Globe was meant to show my believers... and this light is _yours_."

It took Jack a long moment to understand completely the situation, and then he laughed, full of glee and amazement, arms wrapped around Pitch's neck in a painful grip but it didn't matter. The Nightmare King wasn't sure if he still could feel **happiness** \- but the feeling that bursted into his chest in that moment almost painfully could be named as such.

In that night, he slept in the Globe Room only to be sure that little light wouldn't disappear suddenly.  
Jack Frost was really a **fascinating** child.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!  
**_ _ **See ya~**_


	13. Resentful

_**I can not write the Guardians properly. I'm so sorry, you can kill me now. Ooooh, look at all these wonderful reviews! You guys make me so so happy, and I really mean it! I love to see a new review in here because I never expected someone to like this story! Thank you!**_

 _ **If you have any request, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of The Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack learns he's not as forgiving as he believed.**_

* * *

 _ **13\. Resentful**_

Being a Guardian was somehow more fun than he had ever imagined, yet it couldn't be more **uncomfortable** at the same time.

He loved exploring North's workshop. He enjoyed Sandy's dreams and even stole some dreamsand for himself.  
Toothiana helped him to get all his memories from his previous life back.  
He even tolerated Bunnymund's presence and his endless complaints about Pitch whenever they talked about the Boogeyman.

The Guardians were nice to him all the time, but no matter what he tried, he couldn't just put his trust into the Big Four again. Not after what the Easter fiasco. It was just too difficult to trust them when they had just pushed him away again without even letting him explain himself. And even now they couldn't simply talk about Pitch without insulting him! The Easter Bunny was always the one talking too much, yet Jack knew the others were thinking the same things. It was driving the winter child mad and resentful.

Pitch was his father, his best friend. They had _no right_ to insult the man in front of him!  
But they couldn't just **understand** that, could they?

A soft sigh escaped his lips and blue eyes stared up at the giant Globe of Belief. There was just a small light at the Pole, flickering almost all the time. His belief on the Guardians. How it was still there was a wonder for him.

"Jack?"

And just in that moment he noticed the Tooth Fairy fluttering just **too close** to his face, and he moved just too quickly - faceplanting on the floor before he could even stop himself. He had simply _forgot_ how small the couch he had been sitting from the past hours was. A pair of warm hands helped him to get on the couch once more and the winter child giggled himself at his own foolishness, finally focusing on the fairy still talking to him.

"I'm fine, Tooth. Did you ask something before?"

"Oh." She stopped in middle air, and her expression changed in a matter of a second from worried to a curious one. It was just fascinating sometimes. "We just wanted to know what you're planning to do on Christmas this year."

The question caught him off guard. Pitch had never been a big fan of Christmas and Jack only enjoyed the lights on the houses. Never getting a gift from North (probably for holding the record of the Naughty List for more than two centuries) didn't help him to really appreciate all the aspects of that special day. He had even forgot Christmas would be in a month! Oh right, that was the reason the Guardians had reunited that day. They were planning on helping North with the toys and everything else - whatever 'everything else' meant.

"Nothing, in fact. I mean, it's just like another day of the year for me." The winter child just shrugged, but it was hard to ignore the shocked expressions on the Guardians' faces. "What?"

"Did you never... celebrate Christmas, Sweet Tooth?"

"Well, what would ya expect from a kid that's been living with Pitch for all his life? Poor mate shouldn't even know what a Christmas gift is..."

The immortal child didn't even try to stop himself from standing up and shooting frost at Bunnymund, freezing his feet on the floor. He was tired, really tired of all that. He didn't care if they didn't like Pitch. He couldn't care less if they didn't like him for being the Boogeyman's ward but those endless insults were past off limit. How couldn't they simply understand it?

"I know what a Christmas gift is, no thanks to any of you guys." His voice sounded colder than he had expected. "Because no matter if Pitch doesn't like the holiday, he always, **always** gave me a gift. _Every year_ for the past two hundred years, and he was the only one who **ever** gave me something. So I'd really appreciate it if you could just stop telling me he's the bad guy. He's my father, and you don't like it just tell me now and I'll go away and never bother you again."

The heavy silence that fell on the Globe Room was the most uncomfortable he had ever seen.

"We're sorry, Sweet Tooth." Tooth was the first to say something, approaching slowly to touch his shoulder. "But Pitch had done many terrible things in the past, to all of us. We can't trust him."

"The same way you didn't trust me on Easter?" He knew it was a low blow, but the words escaped him anyway. The Guardians flinched and fell silence once more, all except for Sandy that was staring at them with a confused expression and a question mark floating over his head. "I thought so."

Before someone could stop him, the Wind picked his body up and took him away.

* * *

 _ **I tried and I failed. I should be used to it by now. /;;v;;/**_

 _ **Thank you for reading! I hope you guys like it!  
See ya~**_


	14. Anxious

_**You guys make me so happy I just wanna hug each one of you! And I also would give you a cookie, you deserve it.  
Thank you lots for your reviews! ;v;**_

 _ **And here, I couldn't wait to post more chapters because they were just done and oh well, I have no self control. A new short arc for you, my sweet doves! This chapter and the next one will be connected~**_

 _ **AyameKitsune: I promise I'll write you something in the Guardians' POV, I just need to rewatch the movie and aaagh ;v;  
**_ _ **PlaidOtaku: ahhh you so sweet to me thank you so so much! And yes I shall write you something about everyone in the Pole and Pitch being all fatherly over Jack ;v;**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Pitch is curious about Jack's home.**_

* * *

 _ **14\. Anxious**_

"Tell me something, child."

Jack looked down so quickly from his tree branch that he felt his neck snapping in a very painful way, yet he forced himself not to grimace - at least not under Pitch's intense gaze. He didn't fear the Boogeyman as others expected him to. The older spirit was manipulative and quite sadistic, but he never gave Jack reasons to fear him. Jack was smart and a quick learner, and soon he had learned how to play Pitch as much as the other played him. Sometimes it seemed Pitch enjoyed those little, unhealthy games. What really set the immortal child off every time was the fear of being abandoned again, being left behind by the only person that cared to talk to him and keep him some company.

He dread the day Pitch would say he was tired of him and would leave him just like Man in Moon had done.  
A simple year wasn't enough to ease a century of pure loneliness.

But surprisingly, the Nightmare King didn't look angry or upset. No, he looked _curious_.  
The anxiety that had been bubbling up on his frozen chest suddenly seemed to disappear, and Jack finally remembered how to breath again - not that he really needed to.

"Where have you been living from the past hundred years?"

The winter child crooked his head and blinked a few times, confused. Pitch had never cared about those things before, and it was both unsettling and exciting at the same time. Was it a new game? He could never say, but he was just as curious as the Boogeyman now.

"Here and there, mostly. The Wind is always taking me to new places, and when I need to sleep I just find a snowbank or a tree branch."

"Very well."

And then the Nightmare King disappeared into the shadows the same way he had showed up.  
Pitch Black was definitely the weirdest guy he had met.

Not that Jack had met lots of people to be sure.

Well, he'd just go back to his sleep - and the snowbank under that tree seemed really _comfortable_ by now.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	15. Amazed

_**I told ya, no self control. Three chapters in a single night! Well, I hope you guys like this one because I really enjoyed writing it.  
**_ _ **If you have any requests, let me know!**_

 _ **I promise to write them. I just don't know when *nervous gulp*  
And oh, 1.900 hits! I'm so happy right now ;v; you guys are great, really.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of The Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack gets his first Christmas gift.**_

* * *

 _ **15\. Amazed**_

He had truly believed the child had a hidden place near that pond he cherised so much, yet it seemed he had been wrong all that time. It bothered him to know that Jack didn't have a home, a place to come and rest after a long night of wandering the world. And he cared about it, he truly did.

What a curious realization. Just a year had passed by, and he already _cared_ about Jack Frost.

After a lifetime, he finally had found someone who knew how to have a little fun with him, and it was getting out of hand just too quickly.

He shouldn't care.  
He shouldn't love.

He was **the Boogeyman** and he had _no rights_ to care about anyone else but himself.  
No one should care about him, or love him. Jack Frost did not care about rules or rights and wrongs.

The winter child offered him so much more in a year than anyone else had offered him after thousands years. Jack offered his fears, his company.

Well, perhaps it was already time to repay for such _touching_ gifts. Christmas was getting closer, after all.

* * *

"Pitch?"

Jack felt his heart beating a little too fast, eyes trying to see past the thick darkness around him but there was nothing he could glimpse. He pulled the staff closer to his chest, his free hand pressed against the wall by his side. It was the first time he had been allowed to enter Pitch's lair and even if it had been really exciting at first, being left _all alone_ in the dark wasn't his idea of fun. A soft laugh echoed further down the corridor, giving him goosebumps. Yet the boy took a deep breath, moving towards the sound and shadows that seemed to dance around him.

Pitch was **playing**.  
Oh. So it was a game!

He giggled, grabbing his staff with both hands, eyes shining in enthusiasm. Why didn't he notice it before? They were playing again! It had been some time since they had played some game together, and it was just too thrilling! The fear had dissipated, fun taking its place on his chest. Pitch laughed again, his voice echoing everywhere around him, and Jack finally moved, chasing the shadows through endless corridors and stairs. More than once he got lost, yet he didn't care. He could always explore the lair later, paying full attention to whatever Pitch had hidden in there.

Now, he just wanted to find the Boogeyman.

It wasn't a fair race, if he cared. Whenever he got close to Pitch, the older spirit disappeared into a bunch of shadows and they'd start over. It didn't take a long time to Jack to notice the lair was bigger than he had expected, a real maze with countless places to go. It was dark and, thanks to him and his trail of frost, cold. Not that it really mattered now. He was more focused on winning that new game he knew nothing about, but that was fun anyway. And after what seemed to be hours, the winter child finnaly grabbed Pitch Black, hugging him so tightly that he left no space for the shadow master to escape.

"Got ya!"

The Nightmare King laughed gentler than it should be possible for someone so dark. Not that Jack cared. It _suited_ the man, in fact. "And you did it wonderfully well. I think you deserve a prize. Shall we see it?"

The immortal child looked up at his guardian, feeling his excitement and curiosity burning up. He hadn't expected to win a prize! What could it be?

Once more they crossed dark corridors that seemed to be larger and shorter than the ones they had been running through the last hours, and then they moved down a couple of staircases that ended up in a wall made of dark sand that led nowhere.

Jack blinked a few times, but before he could open his mouth to ask something Pitch motioned to his staff and then to the wall. It took the child a long moment to understand what the Boogeyman meant, and after a second or so of hesitation, he finally approached enough to touch the wall gently with his staff. To his surprise, frost spread just too quickly, pushing the nightmare sand away. Ice clung at the original walls, leaving a frozen trail behind as frost took form of beautiful patterns and then...

The frost finally stopped.

The winter child took a step back, eyes full of wonder as he admired the piece of pure ice, as blue as his eyes, popping out of a dark wall, a giant snowflake decorating the _double doors_. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. A warm hand rested on his shoulder, and when he looked up, the Nightmare King was smiling gently.

"Go ahead. It's yours."

Jack felt his heartbeat speeding up but nodded, moving closer to the double doors slowly. What if it was just a trick? No, Pitch wouldn't be so cruel - not _to him_ , at least. Yet he couldn't help the anxiety bubbling up his throat, the annoying feeling of dread and fear slamming at his chest making him tremble but he just pushed them all away as his fingers gripped one of the frozen doorknobs, pushing the door just too slowly and peeking his head in.

It was a large room, too dark to see anything else but glittering points here and there. He stepped in, eyes darting around - and then he almost smacked himself for his own stupidity when he noticed he was stepping into nightmare sand. Carefully he approached a bump close to the doors and once more allowed his staff to touch the dark sand, watching as the ice and frost ran through it - and then moved through all room, veins of blue and white dissipating the sand, taking shape painfully slowly.

And Jack Frost watched, dumbstruck, as the darkness slipped away and took form of objects he never thought he'd ever possess in his immortal life.

He watched, breathless and too amazed to think properly, as his ice and frost gave shape to an entire bedroom, illuminated by a strange light coming from the frozen roof - it was water! He gasped loudly as he looked up, the frozen waters of his pond working as a perfect glass, allowing all the moonlight to invade the large room beautifully. The details on the ice were so perfect he was sure they were there even before his frost covered the walls.

No. _Pitch_ had created everything. Every little thing in that room, every line and curve...

"Is it to your liking?"

Jack turned to the Nightmare King, noticing how his golden eyes seemed to shine even more under the moonlight, and he didn't even think twice before hugging the older spirit tightly once more in the same night, bitting his lips only to force back the tears that threatened to escape his eyes. He couldn't really understand that weird feeling nugging at his chest in a painful way, but it also wonderful and he didn't want it to go away. When warm arms hold him closer, the winter child allowed a soft sob to escape, burying his face into Pitch's robe.

He was just _so happy_!

"Thank you... thank you..."

"Merry Christmas, snowflake."

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	16. Exhausted

_**Hello again! I'm not really proud of this chapter but oh well, I'll try to improve it later.  
Did I ever mention Sandy is my favorite Guardian besides Jack? I really adore him ;v;**_

 _ **PlaidOtaku: his room is all made of ice~ Pitch designed everything beforehand in nightmare sand and then put a trigger to the spell so when Jack touched it with his staff, the ice created all the shapes permanently. Well, something like Elsa when she created her ice castle in Frozen ;v;**_

 _ **If you have any requests, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of The Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Sandy notices something.**_

* * *

 _ **16\. Exhausted**_

It was official.  
Jack Frost _hated_ meetings.

He hated it with every fiber of his frozen body. He hated the lack of fun on them. He hated being bored for such a long time. Even so, the Guardians seemed to **love** those bothersome events and no matter what he tried, he always ended up locked in the Globe Room at the Pole. They spent hours talking about their duties, of how Christmas gifts were getting ready, of how mini fairies collected teeth without problem and all that dull conversation Jack didn't even pay attention to. He cared nothing about the details of their jobs, so _why_ was he still there?

A soft yawn left his lips as the winter child adjusted himself on the big couch, arms wrapped around his knees as he curled up against the red armrest, eyelids too heavy for him to keep his eyes open; he couldn't even remember the last time he slept for a whole night. It felt he had been awaken for years, and he couldn't feel more exhausted than he already was. Well, a quick nap wouldn't hurt anyone...

As North and Bunny started arguing over whose holiday was more important and Tooth shouting orders to her little helpers, no one noticed when Jack drifted into a dreamless sleep nor when the shadows around the couch moved, taking form of a tall man with golden eyes.

No one but _Sandman_ , that had been as bored as the winter child and almost falling asleep as well.  
The moment Pitch Black showed up in the Globe Room, the little man jolted awake, shocked and confused but ready to attack nonetheless. How _dared_ the Boogeyman to invade the Pole just to...

And Sandman felt himself get dizzy as he watched Pitch moving to simply sit down on the couch by Jack's side and pull the child to his laps **oh so gently** not to wake him up, long arms wrapped around the boy's small body as to keep him safe and warm. And Jack smiled on his sleep and clung at Pitch's dark clothes, a content sigh escaping his lips. That was the first time the dreamgiver had seen the winter child **so relaxed**.

Sandman had noticed it before. Everytime the boy was around them in the Pole, Jack kept a safe distance, gripping his staff tightly, as if he always ready to defend himself from something. There was always a hint of fear and distrust behind those impossibly blue eyes everytime he glanced at the Guardians. But then Pitch appeared and the child had just allowed the dark spirit to touch him and keep him close as if it was common.

Jack Frost felt safer in the _Boogeyman's arms_ than around the Guardians.

And it hurt, a painful sting pulling right at his center.  
 **They** were the Guardians of children, and the only _immortal_ child in the world didn't trust in them.

How much had they truly failed Jack Frost the past three centuries?  
How much had they hurt him over and over again without even noticing their wrongs?

The Guardian of Dreams floated closer to the curious pair. Good thing North and Bunny were still arguing and Tooth too focused on her fairies. The last thing he wanted was to startle the winter child that slept so peacefully and give him more excuses not to trust them. For a moment he thought Pitch hadn't see him, but golden eyes stared up at him when he got close enough. To his surprise, the Boogeyman simply smiled a normal, almost kind smile, and kept running long fingers through Jack's hair.

"Do you mind it?" Sandman blinked sometimes, confused once more. What was he supposed to...? Oh. He hesitated for a second, the memories of his corrupted sand too fresh on his mind to be ignored. "You have my word I won't touch it, Sandman."

The golden Guardian bit his lip, still not sure of what to do. Jack deserved a good dream, that was for sure, but he couldn't ignore Pitch sitting just too close to his dream sand. Even so, Sandman forced his fears back and sent a trail of dreamsand towards the winter child, watching as soon it became little dolphins floating over the boy's head. Jack made another content noise and turned into Pitch's arms, even more relaxed and comfortable than before, smiling so brightly in his sleep that it melted Sandman's doubts away.

"Thank you." Pitch nodded softly at the dreamgiver, his hands resting on Jack's back as he promised, away from the golden sand. "If you don't mind, he needs to rest properly. I'll take him home now."

The Nightmare King stood up slowly, pressing the child against his chest and moving towards a shadow - but before he could escape, Sandman hold his arm with a tight grip, his sand forming quick symbols over his head as he offered a small, red purse to the Boogeyman. He just hoped he wouldn't **regret** it later...

"Dreamsand, for Jack?" The Guardian nodded at Pitch's correct translation of his symbols, all his defenses and grudge he hold against the Boogeyman crumbling as the taller spirit smiled and accepted the purse just as carefully as he tried not to touch the dreams over Jack's head before. "He'll appreciate it, Sandman."

And then they were gone.  
Well, perhaps Sandman could trust Pitch once. _Just once._

* * *

 ** _Thank you for reading!  
See ya~_**


	17. Content

_**I'll never get tired of these little arcs. It's just too fun to write them!  
Thank you for your kind reviews, guys. It means a lot to me!**_

 _ **I was thinking about writing little headcanons about Jack and Pitch in the end of the chapters and maybe work on them later. What do you guys think?**_

 _ **If you have any request, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which the Guardians meet Jack's companion.**_

* * *

 _ **17\. Content**_

The Guardians surely had **interesting** homes.

North's workshop was one of the most amazing places he had ever seen, full of colors and noises.  
The Warren was filled with spring itself, warmth and hope. It was beautiful and peaceful.  
Tooth's Palace was always full of movements and little noises that left him confused every time he got too close.

But _nothing_ could be compared to his own home.

The endless maze of corridors and rooms that seemed to change its shape everyday could keep him occupied for days, weeks even. He enjoyed exploring the place through and through, looking for hidden treasures he knew Pitch had left there only for him. He adored every inch of his room, the way he could mess things up as he wished.

He _loved_ living with Pitch Black as much as he loved the Boogeyman.  
Unfortunately, it seemed the Guardians couldn't understand it.

"Ya know, mate." Bunnymund said loudly, finally getting Jack's attention after a couple of minutes trying - the boy had been more interested in freezing the elves that were running through the Globe Room and giggling in a childish glee. "Ya have a home, right?"

The winter child looked up from his task, brows furrowed in confusion.  
 _Of course_ he had a home. How could the Pooka think otherwise?

"I live with Pitch."

"I meant a _real_ home, Frostbite."

"I do have a real home." The younger spirit barked colder than he had planned before, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. "It's nothing glamorous like the Warren or the Pole, but it's my home. You can always come and take a look if you don't believe in me."

"Well I'd love to see it!" Tooth squeaked suddenly, startling everyone in the room. "You're always visiting us, Sweet Tooth. I think it's just fair we do the same once in a while."

Jack blinked at the Tooth Fairy a few times, confused once more. It's been a couple of months since he accepted the guardianship yet he wasn't getting any closer in understanding the Big Four. He couldn't understand why they seemed to _care so much now_ when they had simply abandoned him in the past. He had forgiven them, of course - but it didn't mean he had forgotten. Even so, the boy nodded softly at the Guardians, a hint of smile curling his lips up as an idea popped on his mind.

Oh boy, that'd be _fun_.

"Why don't we go now then? Pitch won't be home for a couple of days anyway. You guys don't even need to worry about him!"

If the Guardians knew Jack Frost a little better, they wouldn't take his smile as a _friendly_ one.  
They'd know they were in a real trouble in the hands of an **excessively bored** trickster.

"Ve take the sleigh then!"

"Sorry North. My home, my rules." Jack needed all his self control not to laugh at Bunny's half angered half frightened expression and stood up, whistling silently.

For a long moment nothing seemed to happen, but before someone could say something or ask what Jack was planning now, a loud neigh echoed through the Globe Room, breaking the silence. The dark mare suddenly emerged from a shadow, her body too gracious for such a large creature, and trotted towards Jack without hesitation, trying to bite his stomach in an attempt to tickle him. The winter child yelped loud and happily, falling down on his back as she attacked his sensitive parts mercilessly, struggling to escape her hold but it was useless.

The Guardians stared in shock as the nightmare appeared out of nowhere and seemed to _attack_ one of their own now. Bunnymund was the first to move, paws ready to take the boomerangs but then he froze in place - just like everyone else - as Jack simply bursted into content laughs, his little squeaks resembling a child being tickled by a parent. The Pooka could even see little tears of pure fun escaping the boy's eyes as he tried to grab the large of the mare head without success.

"You got me, you got me!" The mare simply nickered, but moved an inch away when the immortal child finally grabbed her nose. "Ha, now I got you! Hey!" And then he laughed once more as she simply sniffled dark sand at his face, forcing him to let go. "This is really unfair, you know."

Sandman was the first to snap out of his shock, gathering courage enough to float closer to the mare. It was nighmare sand, there was no doubt, but it seemed **different** somehow. That one wasn't skeletal as the nightmares he had seen before. Her body was firm and elegant, not dropping to pieces or moving restlessly around her, the mane resting perfectly over her strong neck. Her eyes were silver and intelligent, her movements soft and gentle as she touched the frost child's face with her nose. It took the Guardian only a moment to understand.

That one wasn't a _nightmare_.  
She was Jack's companion.

"Nightshade!" The winter child squirmed at the touch, giggling again. "Move!"

The mare seemed satisfied with her work and finally moved back, eyeing the Guardians carefully as she finally noticed their presence. Tooth stood too still, violet eyes wide at the scene in front on them. She couldn't just _believe_ in what she had seen. A nightmare, the same thing they had fought so fiercely to stop spreading fear and terror many months ago, cooing over Jack as if he was her own child. It was both terrifying and lovely. North and Bunny had the same shocked expressions on their faces, gobsmacked.

"Look at the mess you've done!" Jack's voice echoed again, and the Big Four finally remembered to move. Four pair of eyes fell on the child as he stood up, brushing off the dark sand on his clothes and shoulders. In response the mare just neighed and snuffled more sand at the child, who deadpanned. "Very funny. Hey, I need to go home and take my friends with me. Can you open that shortcut?"

Nightshade nickered gently and just as suddenly as she had appeared, her body dissolved in a shadow at the corner of the room. Jack laughed happily and approached, motioning at the Guardians to follow him into the darkness before disappearing. They looked at each other for a brief moment before nodding in a silent agreement, running after the winter child - only to _protect_ him from anything waiting on the other side.

That was going to be a _very long day_.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	18. Joyful

_**This is officially the hardest chapter I've written for this story and I swear this is nothing like I had expected. I'm sorry ;v;  
And this is the end of another arc. Oh well, maybe there's another one coming soon. I still have 80 words to work on!**_

 _ **By the way, I was thinking about writing little headcanons for this story to work on them later. What do you think?**_

 _ **Anyway, thank you guys for all your reviews, follows and favorites. It means a lot to me, really.  
If you have any request, let me know!** **  
**_

 _ **lala32903: Thank you so much! You just made me so happy! ;;**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which the Guardians finally visits Jack's home.**_

* * *

 _ **18\. Joyful**_

Traveling through darkness was one of the most uncomfortable ways to get anywhere, at least on Bunnymund's opinion. He hated being unable to see the way forward, he hated the feeling of shadows _clinging_ at his fur like oil and not letting go. It was **frustrating** , to say the least.

And then the shadows were gone and the Pooka felt himself stumbling over North as the jolly man stopped walking all of sudden.  
The Guardian of Hope moved to take a good look around and gasped at the sight.

They were standing in the middle of a huge room, a Globe of Belief decorating the place - but that one was smaller, lacking a handful of lights on it. However, the few lights glowing in the dark version of their Globe were bright enough to illuminate a great part of the room, showing every detail in the dark walls and floor. The cages hanging from the ceiling were open and empty, covered in frost. No, it wasn't _just_ the cages. The whole place had a thin layer of frost whenever he looked, soft snow falling from nowhere at all.

There were doors and corridors and staircases leading into more darkness, away from safety and promises of a new day.  
There were shadows moving and hidding, some running away from their presence, some snickering and mocking them for their weaknesses.

But no matter to where he looked, Bunny couldn't glimpse **one thing**.  
Jack Frost was _nowhere_ to be seen.

A childish laugh echoed too close, and the Pooka moved his head quickly, ears twitching as he tried to find the trickster. How could a _winter_ creature blend so easily **in the dark** was a mystery to him but before he could even express his thoughts at the other Guardians, something hit his legs and the Easter Bunny fell on his back on... a sled made of pure ice! The next moments were a mess of noises and colors as a sheet of ice simply appeared on the way, taking the Big Four through frozen halls and corridors, and more than once Bunny got really close to slam himself into a wall - and then there'd be a turn in the last second, taking him away from the danger. Jack laughed loudly, flying over their heads, taking them through countless curves and empty rooms.

And then their slide was finally over, ending with the Guardians flying right into a huge pile of fluffy snow.

Bunny was the first to hop out of all the white, shivering in both cold and adrenaline still running through his body. He should admit, that was one of the best things he had done in the past months - _years_ , even - and for a moment it didn't even matter they were standing in the middle of the Boogeyman's lair. Right now, it didn't even look like **Pitch Black** had been living there for all his life, in fact. There was snow and frost covering all the way they had come, the sheet of ice as clear as day. Snowflakes kept falling down from the walls and ceiling, creating a perfect ambient for a winter child.

Said child was still giggling at their faces, blue eyes shining in pure joy and glee.  
Bunnymund took a moment to really look at the younger Guardian.

That was the first time Jack seemed so _relaxed_ , so carefree around them. There were no weird glares at them, no tight grip on his staff as if he was always ready to flee or attack when necessary. He was just moving quickly on his feet or floating around them, as restless as Tooth, creating new patterns of frost whenever he touched. The Easter Bunny needed only a second to understand the reason of that sudden change of behavior.

It wasn't **them**.  
It was _the place_.

Jack felt safe in there, safer than around the _Guardians of Childhood_. A child preferred to play alone in the darkness instead of spending time with them in the North's workshop, or in the soft warmth of his Warren. It was just **heartbreaking**. Yet they had never given a true reason to believe in them, did they? When they got the chance, they had turned the boy down and pushed him away just like they had done so many times before, brushing him off as nothing but a troublemaker and a good for nothing pranker. Bunny had felt it on Easter - how they had destroyed Jack's hope, a hope that had always been _so fragile_. **They** had turned him to Pitch Black since the very beginning.

"Bunny?" The child's voice brought the Pooka back to reality, blue eyes wide in curiosity and worry. "You okay?"

"Ya sure, mate."

"Come on then, there's more I wanna show you guys!"

And there it was again, the wonder and joy shining on those icy eyes as the winter child motioned to them to follow him. Bunny couldn't help but smile at the boy's endless enthusiasm, hopping closer as Jack flew away. They crossed more dark corridors of the maze that was Pitch's lair, barely paying attention to whatever was it that the Boogeyman kept hidden down there. It didn't matter to any of them in that moment as they chased down Jack Frost, trying not to lose sight of the winter child and get lost in the shadows. Gladly the child kept a good distance and soon they finally stopped walking as they were faced with a dead end.

Four heads snapped at Jack, confusion and dread written in each one of them.

But instead of panicking for getting lost, Jack just smiled sheepishly. The butt of his staff met the dark, solid wall behind him and in a blink of eye then nightmare sand had simply disappeared as if it had never existed. Behind it was the most beautiful double doors Bunny had ever seen in his life, carefully decorated with soft lines and curves, the giant snowflake in the middle of the doors perfectly craved in ice. Another touch of the magical staff and the doors moved open, allowing the Pooka to have a glimpse of what was inside, and he felt himself too shocked to think properly, staring into the room agape.

It was past beautiful.  
It was **astounding**.

Everything inside the room was made of ice, pure and solid, the blue and white mixing with perfection. There were small piles of snow here and there, covering the floor and good part of the bed - and for a moment Bunny wondered if there was a mattress under all that white. Iced toys that resembled North's were gathered over shelves at the walls, and the Pooka could swear he caught glimpse of something white and snowy running away from them to hide under the frozen bed.

"This is yer room, Jack?" North asked a bit too loudly something that was pretty obvious, yet Bunny couldn't be more grateful for the shock. The winter child just nodded, pushing them inside to get a better look. "And ve thinking..."

"Your room is wonderful, Sweet Tooth." Tooth squeaked, fluttering closer to the boy. "You're so talented!"

"Me? But I... oh, right. You think I did it." Jack giggled and shook his head. "Sorry to disappoint you, Tooth. _Pitch_ created everything in this room. The toys, the details, even the doors. All I did was freeze the nightmare sand and then turn it into ice. Well, the little guys hidding under the bed are mine, but they don't count."

There was a long, awkward silence until Bunny decided to swallow back all his proud and dread against the Boogeyman. Even if it was too hard to believe Pitch Black could be able to produce something so beautiful as that room, he knew Jack wasn't lying. The adoration on his eyes, the way he spoke about Pitch was enough to make the Pooka feel his old beliefs shaking and shattering inside his chest. He approached slowly, a paw resting on Jack's shoulder. Their eyes met and the warrior needed all his might to speak up under that intense, expectant stare.

"Ya sure have a great home, mate. Sorry for what I've said before."

A little spark of hope grew in Jack's chest, his smile brighter and larger than before, and Bunny grinned back.  
Maybe, just _maybe_ he could stand Pitch's presence a bit longer.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	19. Hungry

_**I swear I needed to rewrite this like three times and yet it's NOT what I wanted. I'm really sorry, dearies.**_  
 _ **And hey, Pitch at the Pole~! I really like the scene. By the way, I'm sorry for North's accent. How do I even write this guy?**_

 ** _Oh, I was thinking about making a proper timeline for the story later, in case you guys are curious or something. Let me know what you think!_**

 ** _If you have any request, let me know~_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of The Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: In which North finds out why Jack refuses to join the Guardians at the meals._**

* * *

 _ **19\. Hungry**_

North was no fool, and it took him no time to notice something really strange about Jack Frost. It wasn't just his incredibly pale and cold skin, or the way he didn't approach the Guardians too much nor tried to open up with them. He could deal with the wariness and distrust. No, the thing that was really bothering him so much was something odd that caught the jolly man's attention more than once since the boy accepted the guardianship and spent a little more time around the Pole.

No matter what they offered, Jack would _never_ sit down and have lunch or dinner with the Guardians. He wouldn't eat sweets or drink eggnog. He always avoided them and their questions or just moved to the workshop, amusing himself in freezing elves and toys alike until the older spirits came back to start the meeting. The boy would even refuse **cookies**! That was horrifying and worrying at the same time, and the Guardian of Wonder was more than decided to find out the true reasons behind that strange behavior.

He waited patiently until Tooth and Sandman left to fulfill their duties that night to approach the winter child, Bunnymund long gone because of the cold he couldn't deal with. Fortunately Jack was still there, seated on the floor cross legged, playing with a toy he probably had stolen from the workshop earlier, too focused on his own fun to notice when North entered. It took North only a second to notice they weren't alone in the room. Pitch Black moved softly on the armchair he was seated, legs crossed elegantly, an elbow resting on the armrest, his chin being pressed against his hand. His golden eyes showed nothing but pure affection towards the winter child, a shadow of smile dancing on his lips.

He seemed relaxed enough to barely pay attention the Guardian standing there, looking at him as if he'd grown another head.

That wasn't the first time the Boogeyman had sneaked into the Pole to sit there quietly, simply watching as Jack played alone or babbled about his day until it was time to leave. No evil plans about spreading fear throughout the whole world, no shadows and nightmares trying to destroy the precious toys and the children's belief. Pitch just stood there, waiting for the winter child to exhaust himself and then they could go home.

That was just as weird as Jack refusing to eat anything at the Pole.

"North."

The jolly man snapped out of his trance as Pitch's velvet voice reached him, eyes that resembled an eclipse focused on the Guardian's face, as if looking for any threat or signal of danger. His shoulders were tense, yet he didn't move from his comfortable position. Jack paused his lonely game to look up at North as well, his eyes shining in suspicion - as if North would simply kick the Boogeyman out. Not that the option didn't seem extremely pleasant. How could he trust someone that killed so many, that did terrible things in the past? Even so, the Nightmare King was _important_ to Jack, more important than he'd ever really comprehend perfectly.

Maybe today he could put a little faith in Pitch Black. **Just today**.

"I didn't expect to 'ave you around too early, Pitch! Would ya like something to eat? Eggnog, cookies?"

"No, thank you. We were already leaving, in fact."

"Ha, nonsense!" North scoffed loudly, decided to send all his doubts and fears down into a hole, and approached the Boogeyman, patting his shoulder just a bit too stronger than he had expected. "You just arrived! And Jack 'ere didn't eat a thing for all day, the boy must be starving! Let us 'ave a good dinner, da?"

"What do you say, snowflake? Care to join us?" Pitch asked softly, leaning closer to Jack to run a hand through his white locks in such a gentle gesture that North felt himself lacking words to describe it. For a moment he felt like watching as a father treated his child, and it was as strange as having the Boogeyman on his living room. "It's been some time since we had a proper dinner together."

When Jack looked up at the Guardian again, wonder and a hint of mischief hidding behind his icy eyes, North finally understood _what_ they were doing wrong. He understood why the boy would always get so angry whenever they talked bad things about the Boogeyman, why he'd left without a word whenever they expressed their true feelings of hatred and despise towards the dark spirit. The Guardians often talked about it, of what they could do to gain Jack's trust after what they had done to him on Easter, after three hundred years of solitude and misjugdment. Now the answer was just **too clear** , to obvious to be ignored.

In Jack's eyes Pitch Black was his father, someone to be _respected_ and loved.  
All they needed to do was **accept** Pitch's presence in their lives.

Well, it couldn't be so bad.  
At least he hoped so.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading~**_  
 _ **See ya!**_


	20. Remembering

_**Oh my, look at it! 20 chapters already! I really felt it should be a special chapter and guys, this is my favorite chapter so far. I really loved writing this one so I hope you like it as much as I do. *nodnod*** **And again, I can't thank you all enough for your wonderful reviews. They make me so happy and I really want to write more because of you guys. You're incredible! Thank you for all you support and ahhh it's just too much I'm crying /;v;/**_

 _ **Btw, I decided to make a little timeline of what happened so far, this chapter included, just in case you guys are curious. If you like the idea, I'll update at every 10th chapter. Is it right? I can never know *hits head against a wall* However, the timeline will be at the end of the chapter, in my final notes. Let me know what you think about it!**_

 _ **If you have any request, let me know~**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of The Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack remembers something important.**_

* * *

 _ **20\. Remembering**_

"What's the first thing you remember, Jack?"

The boy looked up from the book he was reading, taking a second or two to understand the sudden question that seemed to come from every shadow in the huge library. Pitch Black was a curious, patient man that wouldn't voice his questions until he couldn't find an answer by himself. For a long moment he just moved his head, trying to find the Boogeyman in the darkness, to glimpse him between countless layers of shadows - and he felt his heart beating a little too fast when his eyes get caught in Pitch's intense stare, golden eyes shining brightly, just like an eclipse happening in the darkest night.

The Nightmare King didn't move away from the shadows, waiting and watching, and Jack finally snapped out of his sturpor.

He was supposed to answer a question, and he remembered that night _perfectly_ , each detail and feeling.  
How could he **forget** the night he had died, after all?

"Darkness." The winter child said softly, barely noticing the moment his voice shattered. "It was dark and cold, and I was _so scared_. I knew I was dying, and that was what scared me the most. I'd die all alone. It was... painful, suffocating and no matter what I did I couldn't move, I couldn't breath. But then I heard a voice, telling me that I was okay and... someone hugged me and pulled me deeper into the darkness. I was still scared but the _warmth_... it felt so good because I wasn't alone anymore. I wished it'd never go away." Pitch's eyes seemed to shine a little brighter, but Jack didn't notice it. "Then the moon came and it's light pulled away from the darkness and I... became me. Man in Moon gave me a name, and the cold felt just right. But I was all alone again, for a hundred years."

The immortal child abandoned the book to embrace himself, trying not to sulk over those stupid, saddening thoughts. It had happened a long time ago, yet sometimes he still wished for that warmth to **come back** , to surround him just like it did before and never let him go away again.

A soft movement in the corner of his eyes caught his attention and Jack looked up, watching as Pitch stepped out of the shadows, standing tall as the King he truly were. His body became more real as the darkness let go of him and somehow clung at his dark clothes as if it was no more than another part of him. No matter how many times the Boogeyman did that, it'd never cease to be such a **beautiful** scene to watch, yet the winter child never dared to ask Pitch to do it more often when they were together.

But before he could say something, the frail lights that were ilumminating the room suddenly went out. Jack gasped, curling up against the armchair as fear invaded his body painfully slowly. He _hated_ it, those moments in which Pitch left and the **Boogeyman** took his place. He felt the shadows clawing at his skin, clinging at his clothes and body, its touch too warm to be beared - it was feverish, needy, greedy.

"Darkness is the first thing I remember as well." Pitch's velvet voice was strangely soft and almost caring, and Jack forced himself to pay attention to the words echoing in the dark room, coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. "I remember the fear embracing me, and it was just... _so warm_. I've had been in the cold for so long that such warmth was just **overwhelming**. I let myself be taken by them only to feel more and more. I felt the shadows burning at my very soul, twisting me until I became a shadow myself. And I _loved_ them."

The winter child curled up more, trying to hide from the same shadows forcing their way through his shaken defenses - and even if he knew Pitch would never hurt him, their touch was just too much for his cold skin.

"For a long time all I knew, all I felt was darkness and fear. Oh how they made me so powerful! It was addicting. I did countless terrible things, Jack. I destroyed entire planets, I **wiped** entire races from the face of this Universe and the other and I couldn't, I simply wouldn't be _satisfied_. But then... then I found you."

Long fingers cupped his frozen cheeks in a sweet touch, warm lips creeping up his forehead in an almost kiss.  
The wave of recognition hit him so hard Jack felt air escaping his lungs quickly, his throat constricted, leaving him completely breathless.

"Dying, drowning. You were so afraid, and your fear... It was **intoxicating**." Golden eyes hovered just too close to him, but Pitch's gaze was as soft and gentle as his warm touch. And little by little the shadows retreated, the lights flickering back to life slowly as Jack finally remembered how to breath, gasping and wheezing softly. "I held you close as you died. I fed on your fears until there was nothing left but us and the darkness we shared. And then Man in Moon took you from me only to leave you alone for a hundred years."

The younger spirit felt tears forming in his eyes.  
How didn't he remember before? It was _obvious_ , as clear as day and yet...

"Shh... it's fine. You're fine."

Jack felt a sob escape his trembling lips as Pitch pulled him closer, arms wrapped around his cold body the same way he had done so many decades ago. The same touch, needy and too warm, and it worked just as perfectly as before. He felt himself relaxing on Pitch's arms, allowing the older spirit to nestle him against his chest - just like a father shushing his distressed child.

"I-I'm sorry... I thought... that e-even you had left me..."

"I'll never do such a thing. We'll always be together, as long as I exist. Nothing goes better together than cold and dark, after all."

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_

* * *

 ** _What happened so far (aka I have no idea of how making a proper timeline and I'm deeply sorry)_**

 _ **1712:** Hopeless (chapter 11)_  
 _ **1812:** Abandoned (chapter 1)_  
 _ **1813:** Anxious (chapter 14)_  
 _ **1813:** Amazed (chapter 15)_  
 _ **1815:** Comfortable (chapter 2)_  
 _ **1817:** Remembering (chapter 20)_  
 _ **1818:** Curious (chapter 5)_  
 _ **1820:** Fascinated (chapter 12)_  
 _ **1840:** Alone (chapter 6)_  
 _ **1850:** Devastated (chapter 7)_  
 _ **1968:** Afraid (chapter 3)_  
 _ **1973:** Bored (chapter 4)_  
 _ **2012:** Furious (chapter 8)_  
 _ **2012:** Panicky (chapter 9)_  
 _ **2012:** Determined (chapter 10)_  
 _ **2012:** Resentful (chapter 13)_  
 _ **2012:** Hungry (chapter 19)_  
 _ **2013:** Exhausted (chapter 16)_  
 _ **2013:** Content (chapter 17)_  
 _ **2013:** Joyful (chapter 18)_


	21. Confused

_**First of all, let me apologize for this really crappy chapter. I got lost in my writing at some point and couldn't make up my mind about it so... oh well. I'm sorry. I hope you enjoy the chapter anyway ;v; Aaaand I'm really sorry for not posting it last night. I needed to visit a relative so no internet for all day long. Meh.**_

 _ **Oh, and I had a nice idea last night but I'd love to have your opinions too, guys. I thought about making some AU stories (human!Pitch, human!Jack, etc) buuut I don't know if you guys would like to read it in here since I wasn't planning any AU stories when I first started writing this one. So here's the catch, should I make a new story to place the AUs or should I publish it here? It's your call, so let me know what you want!**_

 _ **Now, thank you guys for your lovely reviews! I'm so happy you're enjoying this story! *gives you all virtual cookies***_

 **PlaidOtaku: yep, I'll try to explain it soon in some chapter. I'm trying to go to something like we saw in the movie but I'm sure it'll be terrible but oh well ;v;**

 **Skypeoplephoenix732: I'm glad you liked it~  
**

 **MagicWarriorDragon: Thank you! And yep, I'm planning to show protective!Pitch soon, heh~**

 _ **If you guys have any request, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack and Pitch make a deal.**_

* * *

 _ **21\. Confused**_

If there was one thing Jack couldn't understand about Pitch was that strange kind of obsession of his for the Guardians of Childhood. He had heard the stories about the Dark Ages, how Pitch was powerful and how the Guardians had taken that from him but... he was always **confused**. Pitch wasn't that bad person from before anymore, and even if Jack kept praying he wasn't a child they never tried to approach him or take him away from the Nightmare King. Even with their utterly ignorance, Pitch seemed unable to brush off whatever the Guardian had done to him who knows how many eons ago, some kind of poison he kept swallowing for no good reason at all.

And Jack couldn't help but worry for Pitch more and more each passing day.

Some days were worse than others, and the Boogeyman would hide himself deep into the darkness and wouldn't leave for a good couple of hours, no matter how much Jack begged him to come out and play. Sometimes it hurt, being ignored by the only person that cared for him. Sometimes he barely noticed Pitch was gone until the older spirit came back, exhausted and with such a sad expression that it broke Jack's heart every time. Why wouldn't the Boogeyman let him help? They were a family now, and they should be together all the times - bad days included. Pitch was always around when Jack couldn't control himself, too scared of his own powers.

Jack should be around Pitch when the man was scared and lonely too.

Today seemed to be one of those bad days and the winter child was decided not to leave Pitch all alone as usual. He crossed empty halls and dark rooms, chasing the shadows, ignoring the wild nightmares whinning dangerously at him whenever he passed by them. They didn't scare him anymore after decades of living down there, and maybe that was what made them so angry. Not that it really mattered now. He was more worried about Pitch - and after long minutes he finally glimpsed the Boogeyman slipping into a room.

"Pitch?" He waited, but no answer came.

Jack took a deep breath, floating closer to the closed door. He knew the Boogeyman needed some time alone, yet he couldn't help but worry. He remembered perfectly well how it felt to be alone, the _hopelessness_ that overcame him every moment he wanted someone to help him, to make him understand what was happening. Pitch **shouldn't** feel like that, not when they were a family. The boy gathered enough courage and finally pushed the door open, peeking in as quietly as he could.

The Boogeyman was sunk into an armchair, face hidden on a grey hand. He didn't look just exhausted - it seemed he couldn't even keep himself awake. Jack approached slowly, leaving the staff behind not to spread frost wherever he touched, but Pitch didn't look up, his breathing ragged and wheezing as if he couldn't breath properly. When he was closer, the immortal child noticed how Pitch's hands were trembling, long fingers gripping at the old armrest with unnecessary strength, his knuckles becoming white under the pressure.

He was _hurt_ , and it broke Jack's heart once more.

The boy finally got close enough and dropped on his knees, resting his head on the Boogeyman's lap. He didn't dare to look up, to move. And after what seemed to be an eternity, Pitch's hand touched his hair, caressing the white locks gently.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"I'm sad, snowflake." The older spirit's voice was no more than a whisper, so hopeless that it barely resembled the tall, scary Boogeyman he really was. Even so Jack just stood quiet, enjoying the sweet treats on his hair. "There isn't enough fear in the world. The Guardians keep pushing me away, brushing me off as a simple bedstory..."

"What does it feel like?"

"A long summer without winter."

"You can have m-my fear." Jack felt himself saying before a moment of pure silence, his fingers gripping at Pitch's dark pants before he could even notice it, moving his head so he could stare up at his guardian, blue eyes shining in plea and worry. "They can't push me away from you. I'll be fine, I promise. Until you feel better."

"Just... until I feel better.."

* * *

 _ **I swear I'll make up for this one in the next chapter. *sigh***_

 ** _Thank you for reading!_**  
 ** _See ya~_**


	22. Old

_**Hello again, sweet doves! Uhh I can't thank you enough for your sweet reviews that make me so happy! And again I'm sorry for this chapter, I kinda got lost in my own mind right in the middle of the chapter and oh well, I hope you guys like it ;v; I'll try to write something nice for the next chapter. *smashes head against wall***_

 _ **PlaidOtaku: there'll be some chapters talking about Jack's nightmares soon~ I really wanna explore it! And thank you for all your kind support, you make me so happy ;v;**_

 _ **And guys, if you're interested, I've posted my AU collection. It's called 'Worlds Colliding', so take a look if you're into crazy AUs like I am. I'll be very happy to have you around there!**_

 _ **If you have any request, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack is curious about Pitch's age.**_

* * *

 _ **22\. Old**_

"Pitch, how old are you?"

The Nightmare King looked away from the book on his hands to stare blankly at the curious child at his feet. Jack had invaded the library at some point of that calm evening and laid down on the floor near Pitch's chair, freezing some shadows and small, toy-like mares whenever they tried to approach their master. The older spirit had been able to ignore the annoying child's presence until now, pretending Jack wasn't there messing with his poor nightmares that would soon recover from the ice.

Why did Pitch even take the boy in?  
He couldn't even remember anymore, but he was sure he had had a good reason before.

A trail of frost ran up his feet and legs, suddenly bringing him back to reality, and the Boogeyman didn't even think twice before kicking Jack away _gently_ , watching as the boy rolled away to escape the attack, squeaking in surprise. What an annoying pest...

"And what's the reason for your sudden curiosity, my dear good-for-nothing ward?"

Jack simply shrugged, rubbing his sore shoulder to brush the pain off, and looked up at the Boogeyman again, smiling just too brightly in a way that just showed he _wanted_ something. Pitch sucked in a deep sigh, closing the book and pushing it aside to allow the winter child to climb on his lap, promptly ignoring the fact he had just been kicked away by the Boogeyman. Their relationship was as twisted and unhealthy as it could be, yet that was the only way it could ever work. Not that Jack ever complained about the way things were. In fact, Pitch had a little suspicion that the boy _liked_ to be treated in that way.

 **Sadistic** little imp.

"I'm older than those whose footsteps are _long_ vanished." The Boogeyman finally said, his fingers brushing a few white locks away from the child's face. "And I remember all those years. Ah, I was **so loved**. A great hero, you can say. Everyone would thank me for my deeds, for my courage whenever I walked by them." He noticed the moment Jack stared up, eyes wide in astonishment, and Pitch refrained a smile that dared to show up on his lips. "But those days are no more. Now I'm a mere shadow hidding under beds, and the Guardians are the great heroes. Everything I dared to hold dear had been taken from me."

"It must've been really lonely."

"It was." Pitch nodded, pressing a soft kiss on Jack's cold forehead as the boy yawned, snuggling himself against the Nightmare King's chest. "But now I have you making a mess of everything you touch. I couldn't possibly be lonely anymore even if I _wanted_ to."

The winter child protested something that Pitch didn't understand, already too sleepy to keep his eyes open, and finally drifted into a dreamless sleep. The Nightmare King just stood still, golden eyes never leaving the child's peaceful face as Jack slept with no fear or worries. And Pitch couldn't understand those foreign feelings bubbling inside his chest, trying to force their way through layers over layers of darkness and shadows almost painfully, yet... he knew he had felt it before, a **long** time ago. He had felt it for someone else, someone he had cared for and had loved dearly once.

Yet he held no **false** hopes. He knew things would _never_ be like before. The Golden Age was over, the dark days were long gone. He was a mere shadow pretending to be a father he would never be again.

His human side, locked deep into his soul, screamed against his disbelief.  
And he had really believed he had _silenced_ it so many years ago, before Jack came and decided to shatter all his defenses as if they were nothing.

A soft whimper coming from the boy made the Boogeyman look down and dismiss the nightmare trying to attack the winter child with no second thought.  
Ah, the things he did for _love_...

Well, perhaps he could give in to his old, shattered humanity just for a while.

* * *

 _ **Thank you all for reading it!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	23. Dangerous

**_Wait wait, what's going on here? What do you mean this story is past 5,000 hits? OH MY, GUYS! I really couldn't be more happy. I never thought you'd enjoy this story so much, and you guys surprise me everyday! That's just awesome! I can't thank you enough for your lovely reviews and follows and favorites. They make me so happy! Thank you *hugs every one of you*_**

 ** _And hey, if you haven't had the chance yet, I've posted a drabble/one-shots AU collection named 'Worlds Colliding' and it'll be focusing on Jack/Pitch relationship in different universes/situations. I'm not sure I'll be updating that one as much as I update chapters in here but I'll try to keep a routine for both stories. But I'd be really grateful if you could show some love in there as well. It really means a lot to me. Thank you guys._**

 ** _PlaidOtaku: their relationship is just so twisted *squeaks* they hate and love each other so much it's just adorable! and yesss of course, the Guardians' faces will be so priceless! and hey i like you XD_**

 ** _As for the chapter, I'm not quite proud of how it ended but I kinda like it as well. *sigh* If you have any request, let me know!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Pitch remembers why he shouldn't mess with winter spirits.**_

* * *

 _ **23\. Dangerous**_

Winter spirits were _powerful_ creatures as much as they were beautiful and **dangerous**.

He should've learned that with Old Man Winter.  
He should've kept his last encounter with Jokul Frosti fresh on his mind.

But somehow Pitch Black couldn't believe someone like _Jack Frost_ could be called 'dangerous'. Jack was no more than a baby that was still learning how to toddle. He was young and naïve, full of joy. A hundred years of solitude hadn't been enough to teach him the true extensions of his powers and meaning of his existence. He laughed and played with his gifts as a child would do to a new toy, completely blind to the dangers he could bring, unaware of how powerful he could really be if he just _tried a little harder_. And that lack of respect or fear for his cold powers had infected the Boogeyman as well.

It made Pitch forget completely about a **simple** fact.  
Winter had a magic that couldn't be _controlled_.

In his stupidity, he had believed he was more powerful than a young spirit that had been wandering around for a mere hundred years. He was the **Nightmare King** , after all. Thousands of other spirits had cowered at his sight, when he was the sovereign of the Dark Ages. The Guardians of Childhood still trembled at the mention of his name. But he had forgotten Old Man Winter barely payed attention to him in the old ages. He had decided to _ignore_ the time Jokul Frosti almost killed him, when the winter bringer had left him powerless and broken. All the Boogeyman saw in Jack Frost was a powerful, untamed creature that he could control through his black sand. His powers were still raw and weak, not even being able to compare to the ones he held before, but it wouldn't require much effort to corrupt an already shattered spirit.

He had really believed his _perfect_ plan would work. It was just simple! A touch of nightmare was all he needed to make the boy fall asleep, and then he had watched as dark trails of corruption and fear had traveled down Jack's veins, slowed by the cold but it soon reached the child's heart... And in the very moment the black sand reached its destination, something within the child had just _snapped_ and a massive wall of ice exploded without a single warning, pushing the Boogeyman and his nightmares away, sharp icicles craving deep into their bodies. The nightmares exploded and disappeared into the darkness, but Pitch unfortunately didn't have the same luck.

The blinding pain shot through his entire being, making him shiver helplessly under the merciless cold.  
If he were still mortal, that blow would've been **destructive**.

Pitch Black had simply forgotten _nothing_ could ever taint a frozen heart that only winter creatures possessed, and now he had a **really furious** spirit in his hands to deal with. Not that the Boogeyman believed the boy was even aware of what was happening around them and inside him. His blue eyes were unfocused and dull as he floated away, panting heavily, the grip on the magical staff tightly as if seeking some comfort in that old piece of wood. The snowstorm swirling around his thin body roared wildly, threatening to do give more than a little frostbite to anyone who dared to get too close, and the Boogeyman felt an annoyed sigh escape him.

Ah, good darkness... would he **never** learn not to mess with winter spirits?

It took him painful, long hours and endless shushing words to calm Jack and the storm the boy had created, and that was the _last time_ he dared to try and corrupt a winter creature.

It wasn't **worth** all that trouble.

* * *

 _ **Thank you all for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	24. Hurt

_**Hello, I'm back! Well, now it seems I'm done with the Guardians trusting Pitch a bit more, heh~ this chapter was kinda hard to write but I like it, so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as me! XD**_

 ** _Again, thank you for all your reviews, follows and favorites. It makes me really happy._**

 _ **PlaidOtaku: Yes, it happened a few months after Pitch took Jack in, and that was the main reason he didn't try to corrupt Jack again. And sorry for making you all confused! In Pitch's POV is always him, but sometimes his sadistic side will show up. Jack is the one trying to separate Pitch from his Boogeyman side so he won't be scared of Pitch when they're in the good days. Hope I explained it a bit better now ;v;**_

 _ **Skypeoplephoenix732: Yes, it happened a few months after that! Well, I may write a chapter about Pitch telling Jack the story about Old Man Winter and Jokul, it'd be funny XD and thanks!**_

 _ **If you have any request, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Tooth finds out something new about Pitch.**_

* * *

 _ **24\. Hurt**_

Tooth often forgot Jack didn't _appreciate_ being touched too much, and she couldn't really blame the child. Three hundred years of being walked by children all over the world must've been terrible, traumatizing even. Yet she couldn't help the maternal feelings that washed over her whenever Jack looked as lost and sad as a puppy. She wanted to hug him and reassure him that everything was fine because they were a _family_ now...

But that wasn't true, even if she denied it with every fiber of her colorful body.  
The Guardians were mere new friends, someone to spend some free time with he might have during the day.

 _Pitch Black_ was his real family, someone he looked up to when he was scared or hurt or lonely. The Nightmare King had never let Jack Frost down like everyone else, like Man in Moon himself, and even after a decade of disappearance, Pitch still came back, stronger and more possessive over **his** winter child than ever. They were always together, the perfect opposites that created a whole new piece even _more perfect_ than the one before.

Jack was _love_ , light, cold.  
Pitch was **hatred** , darkness, warmth.

And it hurt her. They were the **Guardians of Childhood** , and they had let a child down, their _own immortal child_. They had pushed him away countless times. They had brushed him off as nothing but a troublemaker that just made a mess of everything, and the realization hurt deeper than she'd ever would admit. They had lost a child to the Boogeyman because they were just too busy to pay attention to children, to pay attention to Jack Frost.

Tooth wanted to make up for it, for all those three hundred years she had ignored and misjudged Jack.

Unfortunately, there was no way to getting close to the child without approaching Pitch Black as well, and it still made her shiver in anger and distrust. He had kidnapped her fairies and the memory boxes. He had destroyed Easter. How was she supposed to _trust_ him again after hundred years of fear and chaos the Boogeyman had spreaded, after what he had done on Easter?

A loud chirp of one of her fairies brought her attention back to what was happening on her Palace, and she didn't even try to supress the shiver that ran through her feathered body as said Nightmare King simply stepped out of a shadow, golden eyes narrowed dangerously as he glanced around, barely minding her presence.

She hadn't notice that Jack had been there the whole time until it was too late.  
The staff had been knocked out of his hands the moment he tried to fly away and he fell more than ungraciously in some kind of couch made of dark sand.

"H-hi there..." That was all the winter child managed to breath out, curling himself deeper into the couch as if he could simply disappear into the sand and escape Pitch's intense gaze.

Tooth took only a moment to snap out of her shock and squeak loud enough for Pitch and Jack look at her. For some reason, the boy looked just relieved that the sudden attention wasn't on him anymore and tried to slip away from the couch, only to be grabbed by dark tendrils and kept right on the place and the Queen Fairy didn't know what she should feel in that moment. There was rage and anger and confusion all slamming at her at the same time and she didn't know what she should listen to, so she did the only thing she could.

"Pitch! What do you think you're doing, invading my Palace-"

"Tooth."

"Attacking my Sweet Tooth like this! You've lost your mind if you're thinking-"

" _Toothiana_."

Pitch's voice was too different from the last time they met. There was no smart retorts, no cruel smiles full of the darkest intentions she could think of. He looked so tired it was almost pitiful, his usually glittering eyes filled with the most **unbelievable** feelings she had never dared to expect to see on _his eyes_. There was worry and anger and relief, the purest relief she had only seen a few times during her long time.

Pitch Black had the same eyes of a father finally finding his lost child.  
It shattered all her old grudges she had been keeping against him.

"If you're done yelling, I have a _good for nothing_ ward to take care of."

She heard Jack trying to protest and say something that sounded like a 'I'm fine' but the words quickly died as the Boogeyman moved through shadows in less than a second, his grip on the child's chin so tightly it should be painful.

"One more word and I swear to the Moon that'll be the last thing you'll ever say again, Jackson."

Jack gulped loudly, swallowing back whatever he was planning to say, and seemed to curl up more on the couch, looking small and fragile under Pitch's rage. Tooth fluttered closer, confused and lost, but her maternal instincts kept kicking in and she needed to do something, _anything_ only to shush them down before she got crazy. And they both looked like they needed a female touch in whatever had happened. So, for the first time in forever, she gathered courage enough and stretched out a hand to touch the Boogeyman on the shoulder.

He tensed for a mere second before looking back at her, golden eyes slightly wide in bewilderment. His tight grip on Jack's chin relaxed and the child moved further down into the couch, blending in the couch as much as it was possible to escape from any other attack.

"Are you... okay?"

"I... yes." He said softly, barely resembling the dark spirit he was. "I'm just... _tired_. I apologize for my manners."

"What happened?"

"He had the _brilliant_ idea of playing tricks on a summer spirit. Come here, you."

Pitch's angry voice left no space for retorts and Tooth simply watched as Jack obediently disentangled his limbs from the dark tendrils and stood up, wobbling soflty as he leaned against the Boogeyman, face hidden on his clothes in pure embarrassment and shame. Even so, Pitch had just pushed him his hoodie up, showing Tooth the deep, ugly burning marks on his pale chest and sides. She gasped, horrified. No doubt Pitch was so stressed and exhausted. If she was on his shoes, she'd be more than angry.

And Tooth finally understood their strange connection, why they were always together, why Jack always got so angry and hurt whenever the Guardians tried to push Pitch Black away as the bad guy that cared for no one but himself.

They were a _family_. Small and broken, but indeed a family. They could be selfish, for they had no one else to care about but themselves.

The Guardians had the children, their own duties and holidays.  
Pitch Black and Jack Frost had nothing but _each other_.

"Stay." She felt herself saying suddenly, and the Boogeyman frowned in confusion. "I mean... you both must be tired and I.. can spare a room. It's not as dark and cold as you boys must be used to, but it's still a room."

"Thank you, Toothiana."

Jack smiled softly, his eyes shining a bit more brighter than the usual. The Fairy felt her heart melting under that sweet gaze, and then she just remembered the ugly wounds on the child's body.

Next thing she knew, she was scurrying a bewildered Jack Frost to one of the guest rooms, and Pitch had been laughing softly at her overreaction, looking as human and paternal as it was possible.

Well, perhaps they could get along sometimes.  
All for Jack's sake, she promised.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	25. Horrified

**I'm not sure if I should like this chapter or if I just delete it and... *sighs* well, I hope you guys like it. It's a new arc that just popped up on my head and I couldn't help but write it.** **Now, if you guys don't enjoy mild torture, disgusting creatures, blood and etc. or if you're just scared of things like the ones that show up in Resident Evil and horror games sometimes, I suggest you NOT to read this arc. I'll be posting a softer chapter later today, after I wake up.**

 **Thank you for your sweet reviews and follows/favorites. You guys make me so happy all the time! I love you guys!**

 **PlaidOtaku: Bunny had already gotten a chapter ;v; b-but I'll try to write a better one for you!**

 **Skypeoplephoenix732: thank you, I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter! Pitch was so mad and worried, the poor guy! And yes, Tooth's my least favorite Guardian (sorry Tooth) and it's always hard to write her ;v; i'm just glad you liked it!**

 **If you have any request, let me know!  
**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**

* * *

 _ **Summary: Jack gets kidnapped by an old enemy.  
** (warnings: blood; mentions of torture; horror; disgusting creatures)_

* * *

 _ **25\. Horrified**_

Pain shot through his entire being, forcing him to jolt awake. He felt dizzy, sick and he couldn't remember what had happened, the memories and images too messy, too mixed in his mind for him to think properly for more than a second. A throbbing headache elicited a whimper from his lips and he decided to move, ready to grab his staff and fly right to Pitch because the older spirit always had the answers and he'd know exactly what had happened...

And then he noticed something _really important_ about his situation.

He was tied up, hanging from the ceiling by his wrists, his feet barely touching the floor under him. He thrashed around in a childish attempt to break free, but the chains binding him barely moved an inch, burning the cool fresh of his wrists every time he moved. Blue eyes looked around as much as he could, yet his staff was nowhere to be seen. The room was empty, warm and just _too bright_. He wasn't home. He wasn't at any of the Guardians' place. He had no idea where he was and couldn't even try to remember how he ended up there without having a terrible headache.

That was it. Jack Frost was officially in **big** troubles.

A _sickening_ laughter filled the room, and in the moment he recognized it he felt the urge to throw up.  
He should've known Ponos was the one behind it since the very beginning.

And then the disgusting spirit got just _too close_ , sharp and razor-like nails grabbing his sides, and the winter child backed away as much as his bounded wrists allowed, ignoring the throbbing pain growing on his body quickly.

"Wh't a 'ay to.. behav'." The gurgling sound that sometimes resembled a horrifying voice made the boy shiver. "Why did h'.. deci'ed t..o kee' ya.."

"Guess he prefers a more good-looking company than _you_. Did you try to look even uglier than last time we met? 'Cause you **surely** accomplished it."

The harsh, sudden slap made Jack recoil in pain and _overwhelming_ fear, the images of their last encounter still too fresh on his mind to be ignored right now. He felt blood escape the cut on his broken lip and Ponos laughed once more. She looked bigger, uglier than before and it was a terrible realization for he knew that it only meant she had become stronger. The creature had been beautiful once, Pitch had said, a mortal, arrogant woman that traded her soul in exchange of eternal beauty. She had been tricked and fell on disgrace, turning into that terrible monster, marred by centuries of pain and torture.

Her body was something disgusting and sickening, a mix of rotten flesh and blood and old corruption that dripped from her wobbly form here and there. Her face was just an amount of more rotten, tortured skin all sewn in a cracked skull, her once beautiful hair as dark as night pulled out here and there, eyes nothing more than empty socks with a glittering red shining in the depths of them. Every time she laughed, what was supposed to be a mouth would shatter open, her jaw distangled from the rest of her face, and show a couple of broken, bleeding teeth and a missing tongue. Her nails were like sharpened razors, and whatever else he could call 'skin' had been destroyed by burnts and cuts.

"I take it back. You look absolutely _gorgeous_ today. Are you trying a new haircut or something-"

A blinding pain bubbled on the top of his stomach and the winter child didn't even try to supress the loud scream that escaped his lips, too focused on the burning agony to pay attention to Ponos' delighted laugh.

Something was just wrong.  
Something was really, really wrong.

The sudden realization hit him as hard as the previous slap, and he felt his eyes widening in shock and terror as he thrashed around once more, panicking, horrified and lost.

There were no shadows in that room. No shadows meant no Pitch coming to rescue him like last time.  
His staff was nowhere to be seen or touched. No staff meant he was powerless and helpless.

Oh boy. He was _so dead_.

"Ya 'anna..mee' my 'ew.. fr'end..?" Ponos gurgled, spitting blood down her jaw and neck as if it was really necessary. It was always a surprise to see there were some parts of her that weren't covered in blood yet. Even so, he tried to focus on the new problem as she pulled something viscous and oil-like from some... part of her wrecked body. He made a disgusted noise and turned his face away, but sharp nails grabbed his chins and forced him to look at the sticky thing moving almost helplessly on Ponos' hand. "So.. 'ute... ya.. 'hink?"

He had a really different opinion about the little creature moving restlessly, hissing. It looked like a small blind serpent, its body dark and viscous, small enough to fit in the palm of a hand.

"Ya 'now... th'y can.. caus'... a pain bey'nd... imag'na..tion.." Jack took a moment to really comprehend whatever Ponos was babbling about, and when the words finally made some sense to him, a shiver shook all his body. "Yo'r pain.. ha'e alwa's been... 'he mos'... d'licious..."

The next thing he knew was the purest pain he had ever felt in his entire life exploding through every inch of his body, shattering every piece of his soul, pushing away every feeling of fear and disbelief that had been swirling around. There was nothing but the pain, pure and raw, breaking and twisting him from the depths of his spirit.

He was **beyond dead** , and this time there was no way out.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	26. Delighted

_**Hey! OHMYGOSH so many wonderful reviews you guys are wonderful and I wish I could hug each one of you omg thank you so so much it means a lot to me, really! ;v; and as I promised on the previous chapter, here's a fluffy one. You guys have been asking what the things under Jack's bed in chapter 18 were, so here's the answer! I'll be back to Ponos' arc in the next chapter, but for now have cute fluffy things between Jack and Pitch /ovo/**_

 _ **Btw, should I write a chapter about Ponos' first appearance on Jack's life? Let me know what you think!**_

 _ **If you have any requests, let me know as well!**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Pitch meets Jack's little new 'friend'.**_

* * *

 _ **26\. Delighted**_

A soft, _too happy_ giggle echoing down the corridor was more than enough to call his attention. It meant Jack was home, doing something that he probably shouldn't be doing, like freezing his beautiful nightmares or spreading snow through the whole lair - as if he really needed to do such an annoying thing to get a _little_ attention from Pitch. Sometimes he still wondered **why** he still took the boy in after his plan in corrupting him failed, even if he'd never admit he knew the answers perfectly well.

He wasn't _alone_ anymore. He had someone to talk to.  
He had someone to **protect** again.

It felt right and wrong at the same time.  
He was _the Boogeyman_. He didn't **need** those stupid things like love, care-

A snowy, white ball of something sprouted from nowhere and sprung down the empty hall suddenly, disappearing in the dark before he could even have time to understand what had happened. And then there was Jack, flying after that whatever-it-is, too focused on his new game to pay attention to anything else - and for some odd reason, Pitch didn't feel bad as he watched the little winter imp crash against a dark corner he hadn't seen until it was too late, falling more than ungraciously on the floor. Ah, the **joys** of being a guardian...

"What in darkness' name are you doing?"

Jack finally noticed he wasn't alone in the room and turned on his back to stare up at the Boogeyman, a hint of mischief adorning his almost sweet smile that meant trouble to anyone in his way. It took a few moment for the boy to disentangle himself from the dark tendrils trying to cling at his clothes and stand up properly, kicking the staff back to his hands.

"Have you seen Snowball?"

"If you mean a white something running wild around the place... no."

"Come on, don't be so mean!"

"I'm the Boogeyman. Being mean is ninety five percent of what I do."

Jack grumbled something under his breath that sounded like an insult of some sort, but before Pitch had enough time to think about a good retort,the snowy thing came back as quickly as it had disappeared, hopping into his arms, leaving no spaces to be ignored or pushed aside. The Nightmare King just stood still for a long second, watching the fragile creature. A bunny, he finally noticed, made of frost and ice. It was small and cold to touch, trembling gently against the warmth of his chest. For a moment it resembled his first mares, too fragile and weak to last longer than a few minutes.

"She likes you." Jack said softly, stepping closer and closer until his fingers touched the bunny gently, petting its twitching ears. "You're quiet, and she likes the quiet."

"Should I be flattered?" Pitch rolled his eyes, yet the soft smile curling up on his lips was more than enough to betray his mixed feelings. "It seems she'll last. You've been working on it for some time, haven't you?"

"I've been trying for the whole summer." The winter child nodded, giggling at the bunny nuzzling his hand. "At first I thought only snow would be enough, but they always exploded after some time. Then I found some spell books on the library and well, it worked. All I needed was to put some of my center into them."

The Nightmare King looked down at the little bundle on his arms, curious and delighted. Sometimes it still surprised him to see how intelligent and dedicated Jack could really be when he desired to, and a sudden feeling of pride hit him as a tidal wave.

"She's a great little thing, Jack." He said softly, allowing his fingers to pet the bunny's snowy fur, and smiled at the blue shade creeping up Jack's cheek. "However, you should be careful. The spell you used is tricky, dangerous even. You put your heart on her, and it means she's a part of you now. A little part, I must say, yet if something happens to her, you'll feel it as well. And believe me, it'll be really _unpleasant_."

"H-how do you know?"

"I've tried it once, with the nightmares. Just keep her safe in your room and you'll be fine."

"I will. Do you think I can make more? So she won't be so lonely."

The winter child smiled brightly at Pitch's consenting nod, pulling the snow bunny into his own arms to keep her safe and cold against his chest, and floated away quickly, probably back to his room to keep his new pet away from danger. The Boogeyman simply stared at the dark corridor, waiting for Jack to disappear. A rare snowflake, indeed. Now he could remember the real reasons he had been keeping the boy around for so long.

Ah, the joys of being a guardian.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	27. Worried

_**Have I ever mentioned that I shouldn't try to write on Guardians' POV? Because I suck on it. I really do. Aaand I can't do neither of Bunny's or North's accent. I'm sorry about it, guys. Well, back to Ponos' arc as I promised! She'll be coming back at the next chapter, so it'll probably be an long one-shot or something. My poor Jack ;v;**_

 _ **PlaidOtaku: glad you like the idea~ I'll be writing it as soon as I finish this arc!**_

 _ **If you guys have any requests, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which the Guardians find out why Jack is late for the meeting.**_

* * *

 _ **27\. Worried**_

Bunnymund should be used to it by now, but he couldn't help the impatience growing within him each passing minute. Jack Frost was anything but in time, and no matter how many times they'd call a Guardian meeting, the boy would _always_ be late. Why did he even expect it to be different today? He stomped his foot against the floor, trying to ignore the feeling of annoyance even if it was really difficult by now. He had things to do, googies to paint and the boy just thought he could be as late as he wanted! That selfish little brat...

"Should we... go looking for him?" Tooth's ringing voice brought the Guardian of Hope back to reality, and in that moment he noticed how the fairy was wriggling her hands in pure worry. "He's **never** this late."

"Frostbite probably fell asleep in a snowbank or something, sheila. No need to-"

Before the Pooka could finish his sentence, the Globe Room seemed to start shaking under his feet. The Guardians jolted back, startled - and in the moment darkness filled the room almost completely for a few seconds, Bunny felt his blood boiling in anger. _He knew it_ , he knew Pitch would dare to attack them sooner or later. Perhaps that was why Jack was late, after all! Maybe the boy tried to stop the Boogeyman and got hurt... But when Pitch did nothing but simply look around, panting heavily, not even sparing a glance at the Guardians for longer than a second, the giant bunny crooked his head in pure confusion, stopping his paws inches away from his trusted boomerangs.

There was something really wrong.

And then he **felt** it, the very moment Pitch's fragile _hope_ shattered like thin glass falling on the floor, breaking into a million pieces.  
And it hurt, more than Bunnymund would ever admit out loud.

"Pitch, what ya doing 'ere?"

When the Boogeyman finally noticed the Guardians' presence in the Globe Room, Bunny felt a shiver of fear running down his fur. Pitch's golden eyes seemed to burn brighter than ever, the dark spirit looking as furious and dangerous as he had been in the Dark Age, many centuries ago. If there was something good about the whole situation, that powerful wrath wasn't directed to the Guardians, at least _this time_. Thinking about that for a moment, Bunny had never seen **Pitch Black** so furious before, even after his defeat during the Dark Age. Something really important had just happened...

An idea popped into his mind and the Guardian of Hope felt his ears lowering against his skull, wary and worried.  
Pitch had never stepped into the Pole without Jack Frost. He had never approached the Guardians if the winter child wasn't around.

And Tooth was right. Jack was never _that_ late to a Guardian meeting.

"Where's Jack, mate?"

"I... don't know."

The Nightmare King's voice sounded surprisingly soft and exhausted for someone so angry, and he took a moment to breath deeply and recompose his elegant patience, the shadows retrating quickly at his movements. Even so, Bunny noticed the strange feelings swirling on those golden eyes, feelings he had never believed he could see on Pitch Black. There was anger and concern and... fear. He was scared, hopeless, completely desperated. It was somewhat _painful_ to watch, even if that was the Boogeyman, the same spirit that had destroyed his entire race and countless other planets in his mad seek for revenge.

In that moment, he finally allowed himself to think past the old grudges. Bunny wasn't staring at Pitch Black, the Nightmare King.

He was facing _Kozmotis Pitchiner_ , the great hero of the Golden Age.  
He was in front of a distressed father that had lost his child and had absolutely no idea of what he could do now or where to look.

"Pitch, what happened?"

"We had an argument of some sort a few weeks ago and he ran away. I usually don't worry, he always comes back before summer starts." Pitch shook his head, his eyes moving to the Globe of Belief as if looking for something that wasn't there anymore. "But two days ago, his light went out. On both of our globes."

"Oh no.." Tooth squeaked from her spot on the air, eyes suddenly filled with unshed tears. Her hands covered her mouth quickly, as if she couldn't even dare to say what they all were thinking in that moment. "H-he can't... Something must be wrong, my Sweet Tooth isn't d-dead!"

"He's not." The Boogeyman replied so softly that Bunny barely couldn't understand his words. "I've felt his fear, right after his light died. He... was terrified."

"That's what got ya so worried." Bunnymund dared to take a step closer, emerald eyes narrowing at Pitch's deep, shaking sigh. "'Cause Frostbite is never scared, no matta what. We'll find 'im, mate." And for a long moment they both just stared at each other, as if trying to find out by a mere gaze if they could trust the other. "Jack's a Guardian now. I know ya don't care-"

"Thank you, Aster." The Pooka felt his eyes widening at the sudden, unexpected sincerity coming from the Boogeyman. "I appreciate your help on the matter."

"Just doin' it for Frostbite."

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	28. Broken

_**Hello again! Look at all these pretty reviews I'm just so flattered you guys are awesome and I can never thank you enough, really. ;v; I know this chapter isn't my best and I just couldn't torture Jack as much as I had planned. Just keep in mind the poor thing had been with Ponos for a few weeks, it might do the trick. Sorry Jack ;v; Buuut I'm not finished with Ponos' arc yet! More explanations next chapter~!**_

 _ **If you have any requests, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Ponos has Jack captive.  
(warnings: blood; torture; character death)**_

* * *

 _ **28\. Broken**_

A new wave of pain rose from his chest suddenly, deeper and ten times stronger than the one before, making him scream and thrash against the bounds keeping him in place, helpless and desperated. The pain on his broken, bleeding wrists had been long forgotten, replaced by sharp nails ripping through his stomach and sides, destroying his fragile skin, by the countless bites on his shoulders and neck. And there it was that serpent-like thing, stuck on the back of his head, sending the most powerful, sickening jolts of pure, absolute agony right into his mind and soul every time he tried to move away, its poison running through his blood and burning his veins as a flame would. There was no inch of his body that hadn't been beaten or cut or wasn't stained with his own blood.

He could feel his very spirit shattering more and more at every assault, and he couldn't just decide what was worse.

He couldn't die, for he had already died when he became Jack Frost. That was a small mercy that Man in Moon had took from him that would be more than appreciated by now.

He couldn't escape, even if the winter swirling dangerously inside him was **pleading** to be released, to be allowed to help him escape his tormentor, to escape that wasteland of agony he had gotten himself into. Without his staff, he was as powerless as a snowflake lost in the wind.

He had no idea of how long he had been trapped in there, if it had been an eternity or just another couple of hours, and he couldn't understand _why_ Pitch hadn't come yet. Pitch would notice something was wrong. Even the _Guardians_ would've noticed his absence by now. So why, why had no one come to save him? He still could understand the Guardians' lack of attention, for they had abandoned him for all his life. Why would it be **different** now? He was a Guardian, he was supposed to be strong enough to protect the children over the world. If he couldn't protect himself, he shouldn't be even allowed to take the guardianship.

Even so, Pitch Black would _never_ do such a cruel thing. The Boogeyman had promised they'd be together forever. If that was because of his powerful fear or just his loud company, it didn't matter. They were a _family_. It was twisted and completely, utterly dysfuncional but a family nonetheless.

Another bolt of pain ripped through his broken body, causing his surroudings to vanish in a flash of white, and the winter child screamed once more.

"D-daddy..." He felt the broken word escaping his lips, frozen tears getting stuck in his cheeks. He was tired and scared.

A delighted giggle echoed just too close and the child whimpered as the female spirit hovered around him, laughing and rejoicing over her newest accomplishment. She had regained her old, beautiful form through the past days, resembling nothing of the true monster she really was inside. Even so, Jack only felt horror filling his cracked spirit in a mere second when he stared at her elegant, thin form, panic constricting his throat, leaving him breathless. His _pain_ had done that. He had **helped** her to regain her strength and that was worse than any torture he had suffered until now.

She'd hurt more people because of _him_.

"Daddy, daddy~" She mocked, in a melodic voice that could be able to fool anyone that didn't know her better. "Poor little thing, so full of _hope_. You really believe he'll come for you. **Who** would want you, huh? He only kept you for your fear, nothing else. No wonder you've been left alone for a hundred years. All you do is a mess of everything you touch."

Lies, just _lies_. She was lying, she _had to_.  
Pitch would never **betray** him like that.

"He doesn't even love you-"

"I know..."

Her pleased expression dropped away at his sudden retort, yet he tried to ignore the fury that was hidden behind her eyes as red as blood. He had never expected Pitch to truly love him. They cared for each other, that was true, but no matter what he felt he wasn't blind nor stupid enough to believe the Boogeyman could be able to love someone else but himself.

"He's..the Boogeyman.. H-he loves..no one... a-and that's why you're so angry... b-because he'll _n-never_ love you... Not as much as..he care for m-me..for my fear... You're s-scared of w-what he'll do when h-he finds me."

Pain shot down his spine and he arched his back in hopes to ease the blinding agony, sobbing and whimpering but decided to keep going on with his empty talk anyway. She wouldn't release him, no matter how broken he was, but he needed to buy himself some time. Pitch would come, he was _sure_ of it. And without his staff, all he had now were his words, and for a moment the winter child wished it was enough. And it seemed Ponos was falling for it, growling at his taunts.

"He'll do nothing because he won't come for you! You're nothing but a dead spirit, always getting in the way. And you call yourself a Guardian. Look at you! You're weak, pathetic, _broken beyond repair_. You don't deserve to be a Guardian."

"Y-you're wrong... You're... the weak o-one here. Y-you can't e-even match me.. in a fair fight..." An agonizing amount of blood got stuck on his throat, the taste so terrible he barely held the urge to throw up. He coughed and wheezed for long, painful moments until the blood escaped his sore trachea and he spat the sickening content on the floor, staining Ponos' dress. "B-beat me all you want... we b-both know you can't stand t-two seconds against me if I have m-my staff..."

Instead of getting angry as he had expected, she just **grinned**.  
It was a sick, cruel grin and Jack gulped, ignoring the metallic taste of his own blood.

 _You had to open your big mouth, hadn't you?_

"Ah, the little spirit wants his stick back."

The moment she held his staff inches away from touch, Jack felt himself panicking once more. He jolted violently against the bounds, blind to the pain coursing through his arms and shoulders. He couldn't breath, and in some part of his tortured, dizzy mind he knew he was hyperventilating and that wasn't a good thing, yet he couldn't care in that moment. Even the poison running down his blood resembled a mere gentle caress against his skin. The urgency and panic was stronger than any pain Ponos had caused him, but he knew there was no way he could get his precious conduit away from her hands.

Before he could even understand what happened, a crack echoed in the room.

The pain that exploded through his body couldn't even be compared to the ones he had felt until now. For a moment his heart seemed to stop its beating, his breath completely stuck on his throat. He couldn't breath. He couldn't move. He was _suffocating_ in pain. Darkness embraced his fragile, wrecked soul and in a last, desperated attempt to escape the endless agony, he allowed himself to get lost in it.

As Jack Frost drowned in darkness, something else stirred within him, soft and swift, tentative against the confines that didn't exist anymore.

Power started to build slowly, freeing itself from the last, weakened strands of bounds that had kept it at bay for so long. Winter thrummed against the broken body that still concealed it. That body was too fragile, ruined beyond any repair, but it still meant **home**. He recognized his child, a child that had been playful and joyful, happy and willing to be his guardian, now lost, scared and scarred.

A child so different from his previous keepers, terrible men that had been so cruel and careless with his powers.  
A child that needed to be protected at all costs, because that child _cared_ for Winter, he respected him and now it was time to repay such kindness.

The bounds keeping his unstable body froze and broke into little shards. Icy blue eyes stared up at their tormentor, sensing the danger building up in the room as quick as an avalanche. He couldn't let that _despicable_ creature hurt **his** child any longer.

And then power finally fred itself from the last strands and exploded, blasting against the threat with the rage of a blizzard, destroying effortlessly any defenses she tried to pull over herself, for pain wasn't stronger than a furious season seeking release on anything, _anyone_ on its way. A shard of ice thrusted right into her chest and the creature of pain screamed for the last time, the cold freezing her inside out in a blink of an eye. Her body, no more than a decorated ice block now, fell against the floor and shattered into a million pieces.

Wind brushed over his face, glad to help.  
 _Coming he's coming just wait_ she said oh so gently.

Winter hummed in response, allowing his old friend to carry him to a snowbank in a corner of the room, placing his body with such softness that only she could muster. The tension and grueling pain finally settled down, exhaustion slowly taking over him. He adjusted himself under the snow, feeling at home with all the cold around him, and allowed himself to relax, eyes closed. His body - _their_ body, for Jack was still there somewhere, too lost in himself to be find right now, too scared and broken to be approached - needed a proper, long rest.

It was still summer, after all.  
Maybe a few weeks of hibernation would do the trick they both needed.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	29. Stubborn

_**Hellooo again! This is a pretty sweet chapter that doesn't belong to Ponos' arc but the idea kept hopping on my head for all day long so I couldn't ignore it. I'll be back to Ponos' arc in the next chapter or so, and OMG all your sweet reviews made me so happy! Thank you so so much! I was really scared you wouldn't like Winter as a sentient being like Wind, and I'm so happy to see you guys liked it! *hugs you all* He's a good guy I promise you'll like him as much as I do, well at least I hope so ;v;**_

 _ **AyameKitsune: Jack's staff was the thing keeping Winter locked away, and Jack was just too scared and tired to even try to hold him back~**_

 _ **Guest: Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it~**_

 _ **PlaidOtaku: I swear I'd give you lots and lots of North's cookies if I could! You're so sweet ;v; And your idea was just great! Thank you so much for it, it surely helped with the last chapter! Winter as a sentient being just popped on my mind all of sudden but I couldn't let it escape ;v; I'm glad you liked it! And there's an explanation to why the Guardians are taking so long, I promise it's a good one XD Sorry to make you wait for the next chapter though ;v;**_

 _ **If you guys have any requests, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack gets Pitch a Christmas gift.**_

* * *

 _ **29\. Stubborn**_

Jack Frost was a stubborn child and he had never given up on an idea of his, no matter how impossible the task seemed to be. And he _promised_ Christmas would be different this time. He didn't care if Pitch simply despised the holiday, this year the Boogeyman would be getting a gift because it was a **special** year - a hundred years may be nothing for an immortal as old as Pitch Black, but it was really important to Jack and it should be as special and wonderful as possible. He'd make sure of it.

So when he came back from the old, abandoned tunnels covered in scratches, bruises and dust all over his body, he didn't even think about the pain that would bother him later. It'd be worth it, he kept saying to himself, bloody fingers gripping hard and tight at the golden gift. It'd be worth it because it meant something to Pitch, it had been important once and it'd be important again. The pain was the last thing in his mind when he locked himself in his room for hours, working patiently. There were many cracks to be covered, countless imperfections to be fixed but he could fix it. He _would_ fix it, no matter what.

If Pitch Black noticed anything weird about his ward's behavior, he didn't comment on it.  
Jack couldn't be more grateful for the Boogeyman's lack of interesting in his doings.

And Christmas finally arrived. The winter child tried to keep his excitement at bay, wandering around the dark lair until Pitch came back from whatever he did during the afternoons. He could feel the cruel anxiety bubbling up on his stomach, making his fingers tremble around the small pack but Jack just took a deep breath, approaching his guardian when he looked distracted enough, reading a book on the giant library he kept. The Boogeyman barely spared him a glance as he usually did whenever they were there, and the child felt his nerves burning nervously under his skin.

"Pitch?" His voice sounded softer, smaller than he had planned but it called Pitch's attention all the same, golden eyes shining in curiosity and mild worry. "I..I have something for you."

The Nightmare King blinked a few times, confusion showering over his elegant features, and then he simply nodded. Jack gulped, pushing his worries and stupid fear aside, and placed the bluish pack on Pitch's hands quickly, expectation growing within him as he watched the older spirit undo the laces and paper oh so gently. And when Pitch finally reached over the real gift inside the little box, something on his expression changed and softened, and for a brief moment he looked exactly the great hero he no longer was.

His fingers caressed the golden sides of the locket that now shone as bright as new, the glass protecting _her_ photo bearing no cracks. The clasps were no longer broken, fixed with mastered perfection so it couldn't get lost anymore. It was as perfect as the day she had given it to him. Something warm and long forgotten stirred within his dark soul, seeking comfort and relief on the old memories of better days, and Pitch allowed himself to get lost in such warmth and good feelings.

"My locket... I thought I had lost it."

"You did. I had to fight a rat for it." Jack said in a tone that could make anyone believe it had been a simply 'fight', but Pitch noticed the broken nails on his hands and healing scratches on his pale cheeks. "I know you don't like Christmas but... this is a special year, you know? I really wanted to give you something special. Besides, you always get me nice presents every year..."

"Thank you, Jack." Pitch's smile was wide and sincere as he placed the locket around his neck, safe behind his shadowy clothes, and Jack felt himself blushing in pride and timidity at the same time. It wasn't too often that the Nightmare King praised him, and it was a really good feeling that he knew he shouldn't get used to.

"It wasn't a very big rat."

"I can see so." Pitch laughed softly, standing up to embrace the winter child for a long moment before letting go, the smile still adorning his face. "Come, let us clean all these wounds, and then you can see your present. It's a surprise."

"A good one?"

"Aren't they all?"

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	30. Frustrated

_**Hello~ I know I promised more explanations on this chapter but I ended up focusing a bit too much on Pitch and.. oh well *sighs* I'll bring Winter back on the next chapter of the arc, so I'll try to explain more things later! ;v; I really wanna keep Winter around for a while, I hope you guys like it~ and thank you for all your wonderful reviews, follows and favorites! You guys are great!** **And as I promised on chapter 20, there'll be an updated timeline on the end of the chapter. I promise I'll try to make something really nice but for now, please don't mind it ;v;**_

 _ **If you have any requests, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Pitch mourns.**_

* * *

 _ **30\. Frustrated**_

Pitch Black could lie to himself as much as he desired to, yet it'd never change the fact he was truly worried about that stupid excuse of ward called Jack Frost. No more than a couple of hundred years had passed and the winter child had been able to change him that much in so little time. It was _pathetic_. He was the Boogeyman, the Nightmare King and no matter how many times he tried to convince himself he only cared about the boy for his fear, about his never-ending belief that made him stronger and stronger each passing day, in that moment he couldn't even fool himself. It was much more than simple hunger, than need for fear.

And as hours turned into days, and days became weeks with no signs of Jack, no clues about his whereabouts, Pitch couldn't bring himself to lie anymore.

He missed Jack's endless enthusiasm. He missed the childish laughter and the cold that filled his lair constantly. He missed the pranks, the snow, the way they completed each other with the **utmost** perfection.

He was tired. He was frustrated, angry at himself for being unable to track his child.  
And for the first time in a long, long time he could say he was _terrified_.

The master of fears and nightmares couldn't stand the idea of never finding his winter child again. He couldn't be alone anymore, not now that Jack had infected him with his sweet happiness and twisted idea of family. If he lost Jack, he'd lose it all once more. His fragile conscience, the weak strings keeping the nightmares and shadows away from his center, inches away from corrupting him again and again and again. He'd drown in misery and darkness once more.

With Jack gone, there was no more reason to try to keep them at bay as he had been doing for so long.  
If Jack was gone, there was no reason _not to be_ the true Nightmare King he was. And this time not even Man in Moon and a thousand of his Guardians would be able to stop him.

He needed Jack as he needed fear. He needed that unconditional, absolute love and devotion that only that child could offer him. He needed the cold comfort that helped him to keep the shadows away from his heart, that prevented the nightmares from eating his very soul.

His forgotten, ruined self wept within him, mourning the loss of another child.

Grey fingers touched the golden locket resting against his chest, tracing the precious details gently, trying to focus on anything else but the children he had lost through the centuries. A warm hand came all of sudden, resting on his shoulder with such delicacy that only a Queen Fairy could possess. It seemed Toothiana always knew the right moment to approach him, sweet and quiet, respectful for his silent grief, and for that he couldn't be more grateful. He couldn't dwell on that endless misery for much longer. Jack **needed** him. Jack was somewhere out there, scared and alone. He couldn't break now. He _wouldn't_.

"We'll find him." It wasn't a question nor an obvious remark. It was a promise full of _hope_ that dared to bubble on his chest for a long, painful second. "No one is match for my Sweet Tooth."

"I know. He's a stubborn little thing. He always finds a way to get out of trouble, no matter what."

"He's very fond of you." She said softly, her voice barely a whisper as she floated closer, sitting down by Pitch's side, her hand still on his shoulder.

Sometimes it was still a surprise to see how she didn't fear him anymore.  
Sometimes her eyes betrayed a strange emotion, as if she really _cared_ about him, the Boogeyman she had hated for so long.

Deep inside, he knew he should blame Jack Frost for that.

Jack wasn't a simple winter spirit or just the Guardian of Fun. There was something else within him, something warm that managed to bring them all together without a real explanation, a good feeling that had been enough to destroy their old defenses, to turn that deep hatred towards each other into a mild acceptance. Without Jack, they'd simply fall back to the old ways.

And then, a breathtaking wave of fear overcame his senses for no longer than a second, vanishing in a painful fog. His dark center rejoiced for the sudden meal, yet he couldn't bring himself to enjoy it as much as the shadows. It took him only a moment to recognize the soul bearing such a powerful horror, his heart beating a little too fast as things finally started to make sense.

Ponos. Of course that disgusting bitch would try something sooner or later. He should've been more careful...

Panic washed over him the next second, darkening his mind and his thoughts.  
Ponos had held Jack captive _for weeks_ , at least. He really didn't want to think about what had happened. He could dwell on it later.

If he had been able to feel Ponos' fear, it meant something had gone _terribly_ wrong on her plans.

* * *

It took them exactly three days, six hours and fourty minutes to find the old, decrepit hut Ponos used to lurk in. Her spell had finally wore out, allowing the Guardians and Pitch to approach enough to get Jack out of her nauseating hands. Pitch almost missed the small building, for all those woods were covered in snow and ice. Even so, he couldn't be more grateful for the cold biting at his skin mercilessly as he kept going deeper and deeper. Such a furious snowstorm raging over their heads meant Jack was alive, and the relief and happiness that washed over him after that obvious realization couldn't even be compared to anything he had ever felt in his entire, long life. The Guardians themselves looked happier, their expressions lighter as they crossed the frozen woods towards the hut. Bunnymund didn't even complain about the cold, too focused on finding Jack to care about anything else.

The hut was buried in snow, yet Pitch managed to slide between a few shadows here and there, finally getting in. It was cold as a frozen lake in there, the lack of warmth becoming terribly uncomfortable each passing second.

A little bundle of dark red and blue in a snowbank caught his attention, and the Boogeyman felt his heart failing him for a few moments.

Jack.

The winter child slept peacefully, curled up in himself, arms wrapped around his small, still healing body. The countless wounds and bruises had been covered in a thin layer of frost, and he looked paler than ever among all the snow. A soft, content noise escaped his azure lips when Pitch touched his hair, the sudden warmth invading his cold wonderland more just enough to make him open his eyes for a mere second before falling asleep once more, not even flinching when the Boogeyman took him away from the snowbank.

And Pitch just stood there for a long minute, pressing the cold body against his chest tightly. He needed to be sure it wasn't a simply dream or nightmare that he'd soon wake up from. He needed to be sure it was real, that Jack was on his arms...

Jack was alive. He was fine, and nothing else really mattered.  
They could deal with the worrisome details later.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_

* * *

 _ **What happened so far (aka how do I even make a timeline?):**_

 _ **1712:** Hopeless (chapter 11)  
_ _ **1812:** Abandoned (chapter 1)  
_ _ **1812:** Dangerous (chapter 23)  
_ _ **1813:** Anxious (chapter 14)  
_ _ **1813:** Amazed (chapter 15)  
_ _ **1815:** Comfortable (chapter 2)  
_ _ **1817:** Remembering (chapter 20)  
_ _ **1818:** Curious (chapter 5)  
_ _ **1820:** Fascinated (chapter 12)  
_ _ **1840:** Alone (chapter 6)  
_ _ **1850:** Devastated (chapter 7)  
_ _ **1853:** Old (chapter 22)  
_ _ **1875:** Confused (chapter 21)  
_ _ **1894:** Delighted (chapter 26)  
_ _ **1912:** Stubborn (chapter 29)  
_ _ **1968:** Afraid (chapter 3)  
_ _ **1973:** Bored (chapter 4)  
_ _ **2012:** Furious (chapter 8)  
_ _ **2012:** Panicky (chapter 9)  
_ _ **2012:** Determined (chapter 10)  
_ _ **2012:** Resentful (chapter 13)  
_ _ **2012:** Hungry (chapter 19)  
_ _ **2013:** Exhausted (chapter 16)  
_ _ **2013:** Content (chapter 17)  
_ _ **2013:** Joyful (chapter 18)  
_ _ **2013:** Hurt (chapter 24)  
_ _ **2014:** Horrified (chapter 25)  
_ _ **2014:** Worried (chapter 27)  
_ _ **2014:** Broken (chapter 28)  
_ _ **2014:** Frustrated (chapter 30) / CURRENT CHAPTER_


	31. Concerned

_**Whoops I'm late! I'm sorry about it, I just needed to rewrite this chapter a few times until it was good enough (and it still isn't oh well) and here I am, really late to post a new chapter. *sigh* Weeeeellll, I'm still thinking if I should keep Winter around for a little while. He's all fun to write but it's up to you guys. Let me know what you think! If you want to have him around a bit more, so this is the official end of Ponos' arc. I promised I'd write about the first time Jack met her and I'm already working on it~**_

 _ **And I'd appreciate a lil more reviews ;v; I love all the support you guys give me, but some critics or ideas would be nice sometimes. Anyway, thank you all for your follows, favorites and reviews~**_ _ **If you have any request, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack finally wakes up.**_

* * *

 _ **31\. Concerned**_

There was something odd about Jack since they had found him, and it wasn't just the fact he had still to wake from his long, worrying slumber. His body seemed to be colder than it had ever been, his skin paler and softer as if it was made of pure snow that soon would melt and disappear. Frost quickly spread through anyone's fingers the moment they tried to touch him, even if his staff was still broken. It still pained the Nightmare King to look at the old, magical conduit snapped in two, completely useless and powerless. It shouldn't be like that.

Jack should be awaken, spreading tricks and fun wherever he went.  
Jack should be laughing and playing, getting himself in harmless troubles.  
Jack should be _safe_.

Pitch just wished summer would be over soon.

He couldn't even begin to think about the pain Ponos had caused the winter child through the last weeks he had been her captive, the irreversible damages she had brought on his body and spirit, for the very idea was enough to make shudder in fear and despair. He knew Jack was strong and stubborn beyond limits, he knew how difficult it was to break a winter creature but everyone had a breaking point. And considering the conditions they had found Ponos' frozen remains across the floor, it seemed the boy had finally reached his.

The Boogeyman couldn't decided if he should be relieved or terrified.

A yeti offering him a new round of warm eggnog brought his wandering mind back to the 'meeting' he had gotten himself into. He couldn't even remember why he had followed the Guardians' idea, why they were keeping Jack in the Pole instead of his lair. It was obvious the winter child wouldn't wake up any time soon, but they had insisted so much and for so long that Pitch had complied with the request only to get some peace of mind. Now, it was no more than a really terribly idea. The place was always just too noisy, brighty and its lack of darkness made him feel sick and uncomfortable.

The Guardians were just an add to the loudy mess.

They've been keeping a silent truce since Jack's disappearance, ignoring his now constant presence at the Pole. Sometimes they even treated him _friendly_ , like today. They invited him to spend some time with them, so he wouldn't feel so lonely while Jack was hibernating. Not that it really mattered, at least after a couple of hours arguing over whose holiday was more important.

Bunnymund and North had long forgotten about everyone's presence, too focused on their new argument.  
Toothiana simply fluttered quickly around the room, giving endless orders to her mini fairies.  
Sandman had been floating around, obviously divided between drinking another mug of eggnog or taking a nap.

He'd rather be lonely on his dark, quiet lair.

No one noticed as he slipped into the shadows, moving through darkness in a blink of an eye.

Jack's room was terribly cold, maybe colder than the day before. It was verging the unbearable now, yet he stepped closer and closer. His fingers rested on white locks of hair for a long moment, and to his surprise, for the first time in almost three weeks, Jack Frost finally stirred and turned on the frozen bed.

The child blinked slowly, fighting the sleep still trying to hold its grip over him.

Pitch didn't dare to move, scared and concerned for Jack's reaction when he finally woke up completely. He didn't want his child to _fear him_ , to believe he'd hurt him in any way. He could have it from any other child in the entire world, but not from Jack. Not when things were going so well after so long...

And when icy blue eyes stared right at him, the Boogeyman felt a painful sting right on his heart.

He had seen that glance before, in the old times when they were no more than two lonely spirits trying to find out how to deal with each other without destroying anything on the way. He had felt the rage such cold glance brought upon others, and even if he had deserved it back then Pitch had really believed he'd never see those eyes again. It was worse than anything he had thought.

But when he took a better look, there was something different about those eyes this time. Something that shone softer than before, something _happier_. They had the dullness from the last time, the emotions swirling brightly on them like a snowstorm.

It was as beautiful as it was _devastating_. It meant Pitch was staring at anyone but **Jack Frost**.  
And the Nightmare King felt himself panicking once more, the fear threatening to consume his so fragile hope.

That was it, he had lost his precious child again...  
Why had he been so careless, _so stupid_ -

Small fingers touched his arms gently, easing the horror and grief building up on his soul. The strange tranquility smashed against his spirit as an avalanche, too powerful and strong to be ignored.

"I remember you." The voice talking to him was soft, a winter breeze against his overheated skin, lulling him into a calmness he hadn't felt in a very long time and had never noticed how much he missed it until now. "A name woven across countless _almost lives_. Jack is still here." His hand was forced against the cold, fragile chest of a child, the heartbeat as slow and weak as ever. "Hurt, helpless. Drowned in darkness because this is where **you** belong."

"That's the reason you're here."

"He's good kid, but he's lost. Needs help, guidance. He fears the light but can't see that you lurk on it now. Thinks darkness will make things better, safer. There's too much **pain** , too much fear. I can help. Ease the wounds, fix the cracks and then be me again, like before."

"Can you bring him back?" The child nodded, his fingers still holding Pitch's hands, caressing the skin, sending gently shivers through his body. "So help him. Take as much time as you need. Just... bring him back home."

"I will."

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	32. Fly

_**Really really short chapter at 1am because I really had no idea of what I could write today because I spent the whole day in another city and I'm just too tired to think right now. I'm sorry, I really am. /;v;/ I'll try to post a real chapter later today, maybe something about Winter and one of the Guardians (or Pitch, you choose). And thank you for your sweet reviews, I'll reply to them later 'cause I can't really think properly anymore z_z**_

 _ **If you have any requests, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Pitch is jealous.**_

* * *

 _ **32\. Fly**_

If there was just one thing Pitch Black could say he was _jealous_ of was Jack's ability to fly around as the boy pleased.

It wasn't something forced, unnatural and noisy like his nightmares.  
It was something gracious, elegant even.

The Wind had always been gentle to the winter child, carrying him around with delicacy and care, treating him as the fragile snowflake he really was. And Jack played and rejoiced on the arms of his first, eternal friend because no matter what Pitch did or offered, he knew Jack was only _truly happy_ when he was out there, riding the Wind, spreading snow and playing tricks on anyone that dared to cross his way. Out there he could simply be Winter, powerful and boundless, completely **free** to be whoever he was supposed to be and oh Pitch knew how _great_ it felt.

And more than once the Boogeyman found himself _desiring_ to taste that freedom, that happiness again. He knew he had felt it before, the memories of those happy times long vanished in shadows. Golden, bright times when he also could ride a different kind of wind, but could feel the same things Jack felt day after day.

Yes, he was jealous but also content.  
At least _one_ of them could still be happy, and that was enough for him.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	33. Hated

_**Helloooo~ I was planning to post a long chapter tonight but I just couldn't finish it because Winter is hard as **ck to write and there's a lot of things going through my mind right now. *smashes head against a wall* Why do I even try... Well, I'm just so sorry for it, my dearies. I hope you don't mind short chapters. I'm open to any ideas or requests you may have, btw. Thank you for your kind reviews, too!~**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: Jack has an important question.**_

* * *

 _ **33\. Hated**_

"Why does _everyone_ hate me?"

The saddening question echoed so softly that Pitch barely understood the shaken words coming from Jack' mouth. Trembling and covered in wounds, the boy looked ten times younger than he really was, and for the first time in a long time the Nightmare King felt something else stirring within him but anger and hatred. A hint of compassion and a pathetic fraternal feeling bubbled up his throat and he needed all his might not to swallow them back into shadows. Long fingers kept working slowly on the countless burns and bruises covering the child's small body, trying to ease the pain on his skin. The pain consuming the winter child from inside was way too difficult to deal with, and Pitch wondered if he _should_ care too much.

Jack Frost was no more than a fear supply, a loud companion for the quiet nights. They held each other when loneliness was too great to bear, when madness threatened to take over their minds. It didn't mean their relationship was something verging what others called 'friendship'. It was mutual help, **nothing else**.

They weren't and would never be _friends_.

"They're blind." The Nightmare King finally said, carefully wrapping a bandage over Jack's neck. "They believe life is always good times, sweet dreams and warm hope. They try to forget there's also cold and fear and things that lurk in the dark. _We_ remind them. They think brute force and cruel words can deny our natures and our presence. Adorably futile, I must say."

"Not too futile for me..."

"Hush, child." Pitch touched the child's chin gently, forcing his head up oh so slowly. "You care too much. Allow them to taste an inch of your powers and they'll never hurt you again."

"They'll _fear_ me. I don't want it." The Boogeyman shrugged, quite disappointed, and focused on treating Jack's wounds. After some seconds, the child spoke up again, his voice trembling as badly as his frozen body. "Pitch... isn't it better to be **loved** than feared?"

A long moment of pure silence, cold and uncomfortable, fell over the room.

He knew he had been loved and adored once. He had been more than a shadow hiding under beds, feeding on every little fear he could find not to disappear, struggling to get believers anywhere because he was just too tired of the never-changing loneliness and hopelessness, tired of being unseen and unwanted. He knew he had been a good man, once. But it had been a _long_ time ago, when fear and nightmare weren't the only things he knew, the only things he could love and revel in. Now all he had, all he could live up for were the dark and the shadows within his soul.

Blue eyes full of unshed tears and painful expectations stared right into his golden ones, and he didn't even try to stop the sugar coated lie that escaped his lips before he could even hold it back.

"Yes, Jack. It is."

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading! Reviews are appreciated as always~**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	34. Forgive

_**OHMY LOOK AT THIS LONG CHAPTER *falls on the floor* I really really hope this is a good chapter because this is the longest chapter I've written so far and I just want it to be good enough omg how do I even write Bunny and Winter in the same chapter without going insane? *cries* and you guys will be probably be confused and I wish I could explain everything in just one chapter ;v; anyway, thank you all for your wonderful reviews and I'm sorry if I forgot to reply to someone. And heeeey we're almost at 40 chapters! All thanks to you guys, really!**_

 _ **Skypeoplephoenix732: I noticed I didn't reply to your previous review but many thanks! ;v; and I'm glad you understood and enjoyed what I'm trying to do~ thank you so so much for your lovely reviews!**_

 _ **If you have any requests, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Bunnymund meets Winter properly.**_

* * *

 _ **34\. Forgive**_

Bunnymund had always been a practical being.  
To him, people could _never_ change. They were what they were and end of story.

Aster had never noticed how much **he** had changed after Jack Frost invaded his life. In fact, if he had payed a bit more attention to things around him, he'd have noticed how the Guardians themselves had changed. He'd have noticed how often they reunited now, calling meetings over and over again only to check on each other and be sure everything was okay and to see if there was nothing trying to harm the children over the world again. He'd have noticed how Tooth went back to field, collecting teeth herself, how North's toys seemed to have a bit more of wonder and magic on them. How Sandy's dreams were now always filled with fun and curiosity. How his googies had more patterns on them, blue and white and snowy.

He'd have put a bit more of faith into Pitch Black, someone who always took what he wanted and destroyed what he hated without a single drop of guilty on his veins.  
He'd have noticed how the dark spirit had changed oh so slowly, becoming the father he once had been in a long time ago, times that had been lost and found again.

When Aster finally noticed it, it was just too late.

Jack Frost was gone, and he had taken his little tricks with him.

After finally taking the vows of guardianship and joining their 'little weirdo group', the boy had became an important part of their lives. He was a constant, even if he couldn't stay quiet in the same place for more than two minutes. With his childish happiness and easy smile, it was hard not to want to be around him. He was an immortal child that would never grow up, and he was also a strange kind of glue that made them stick together like a family they had been once. Jack made them remember what it really meant to be a Guardian of Childhood, the reasons they were who they were.

And now that he was gone, Bunny could see the effects of his absense as clear as day. He could see how easily they had fallen into the old ways, worrying more about their works than about the children they were supposed to protect from evil. Even Pitch Black had became quite unbearable after weeks of pure nothing, angry and dangerous almost all the time, snapping at the minimal thing. Tooth was the only one that dared to approach the Boogeyman, the only one that could soothe him and make him calm down because 'Jack still needs you'.

They had failed Jack, and what hurt the most was the realization that Jack, a _child_ that they had neglected for three hundred years, a child that had his hopes destroyed by the very Guardians that swore to protect it by all costs, was gone for good and that was **their fault**. It hurt to know that Aster had lost another little brother.

They should've protected the winter child since his first breath as Jack Frost.  
If they had failed _their own child_ , how could they protect every child over the world?

His grip on the blank googie tightened more than he had expected, yet Aster realized his mistake in time, relaxing his muscles before he shattered the poor little creature that had nothing to do with his sudden anger and frustration. There was so much going on his mind since they had found Jack. They had waited patiently to summer to come to an end, for Pitch had ensured them that Jack would wake up once the overheated season was over, once it was cold enough for him to come back.

And when the winter child had waken up, they had so been sure everything would be fine because they'd never allow the child to be out of their sight again-

But to their utter despair, Jack Frost once more was gone, replaced by a strange creature that sometimes seemed not to have feelings at all, sometimes seemed to feel countless things at the same time.

Hope was such a fragile, weak thing that shattered at any harsh touch.  
How was he supposed to be the Guardian of Hope, when his own kept breaking and cracking day after day?

"Aster?"

The Pooka snapped his head up just too quickly, the muscles of his neck screaming against the movement.

Blue eyes that resembled a snowstorm stared right into his own emerald eyes with such an intensity that it made Bunnymund feel uncomfortable. But to his surprise, the child-like thing just looked away as quickly, a soft trail of frost covering his cheeks as if he was just blushing. Small, pale fingers fidgeted at the end of the blue hoodie, as if he couldn't keep his hands still for longer than a second. It was always terrifying to see Jack without his staff, but then Aster would remember that child floating inches away from the warm ground of his Warren wasn't Jack Frost. It was just something else locked within his body, keeping their immortal child away from them.

"Why're ya here?"

"I-I know I shouldn't be here..." Jack's voice was always as soft as a cold breeze, lacking the childish energy from before. Another reason to Bunny to dislike that stupid creature that refused to bring their real Jack back. "Too much _cold_ inside. Hope is meant to be **warm** , but now it feels wrong, writhing, wriggling."

"Shut it up, creepy. Stay out of mah mind _and_ my Warren."

"I can help..."

"I don't wanna yer help!" The child backed away at his sudden outburst, looking so lost and young and hurt that Aster really felt bad for yelling at him. It was the same, painful expression Jack had held on that Easter fiasco, when they had believed he had betrayed them and then pushed him away without allowing him to tell his side of the story. "Just stay away."

"Why... do you hate me so much? I did... nothing wrong..."

"Ya keeping Jack away, mate. That's bad enoug' for me."

"I'm not bad! I'm helping him!"

And then it was Bunnymund's time to step away, eyes wide in surprise and fear. That was the first time in weeks that he had heard Jack speaking loudly, looking as fierce and angry as a blizzard. The wind swirled around him dangerously, threatening to bring the same snowstorm raging in those blue eyes right into his Warren and destroy all his precious work. Fortunately something seemed to caught the child's attention and he relaxed visibly, the cold air and danger disappearing as quickly as it had showed up. Jack moved softly, eyes shining in awe and curiosity as he looked around, focusing on the warmth, the flowers, getting lost in the nature involving him. He watched as some googies ran away from his cold, seeking shelter behind Bunny.

And he _laughed_.

It was a laugh full of happiness, excitement and amazement.  
A child's laugh.

Aster felt his ears lowering against his head, the shame hiting him as painful as a stab on the back. He had been making the same mistakes all over again, judging Jack Frost without even trying to stop and listen to the child. It didn't matter if that wasn't the Frostbite he knew, it was still a child.

"It's not your fault. They'd have died anyway."

A shiver ran down his fur at the quiet words that meant more than he'd like to understand, and then he noticed those intense blue eyes staring _past_ him, as if looking right at his very soul. Jack floated closer, slow and cautious as if his mere presence could make the Pooka flee. Small fingers touched his paw, the coldness spreading through his fur in tender waves, bringing with it a tranquility he didn't know he could still feel. His defenses crumbled under that sweet touch and he allowed himself to get lost in that snowstorm.

"The stone is cracked, crushed, jagged." The words seemed to twist the old pain that had rotted within his chest. It hurt, yet he couldn't pull himself away from the frozen hand holding him in place. "The kit would have been safe if he had listened, but kits don't listen to anyone."

"Stop it..."

"You keep going back, seeking, searching but home is long gone, lost in shadows. He wishes he could change the past, bend it to his will and right his wrongs. Now he can see more, he remembers how it feels like to lose a family. He could've fought the darkness. He could've had be strong but the nightmares were stronger."

Aster just stood still, waiting for the words to sink in so maybe, just maybe they could make a little sense.

Jack couldn't be talking about Pitch Black... could he?  
The Boogeyman never felt guilty for anything he ever did on his life. He didn't weep for his lost loved ones as Bunnymund had done.

But Aster had watched Pitch tire himself out over and over again while searching Jack Frost. He watched as the older spirit wandered through the Pole day and night, scared and hurt and desperated. Bunny had felt the new, fragile hope that blossomed inside Pitch when Jack was finally back. And he was still waiting patiently for his winter child to come back, treating that strange creature as docile as he'd treat Jack.

"He knows that enduring is pain. He hurts for you, for all those he could've saved but didn't. He wishes you could forgive him."

The cold touch on his warm fur disappeared, yet the breathtaking feelings stayed behind, coursing through his body and mind slowly, allowing him to taste the poison coming from the old wounds buried deep inside, unravelling the rotten knots keeping the pain there, fresh as ever. It hurt and burned, yet he knew it was for the best. The anger, the rage and agony were just too much for him to keep swallowing over and over again.

He meant Hope. New life, new beginnings.  
How could he bring Hope if he was always so hopeless?

The winter child offered him a gentle smile full of compassion.

And when the Pooka finally understood what had just happened, the last of his defenses fell down, crumbling to dust right in front of his eyes but he couldn't bring himself to care. He would never forget what Pitch Black had done, he couldn't simply brush off his family, his past as if they were nothing. It didn't mean he should keep dwelling on what had happened so many eons ago, it didn't mean he should keep feeding himself on the distasteful poison that was anger and never-ending hatred.

He had a _new_ family. People that cared for him, that were always there whenever he needed them. He could cherish and mourn the family he had lost, but he shouldn't be blind to the one he had got now. They weren't related by blood but by love and that was stronger than anything else.

Aster finally let the breath he didn't know he was holding out, the strange feeling of peace and calmness washing over him in a second. Oh how long had it been since he felt so hopeful, so full of life. Emerald eyes met blue ones for a long, quiet moment and then the giant bunny smiled, placing a paw over the white hair of the child.

That wasn't Jack Frost, but it surely wasn't as bad as he had believed either.

"Thank ya, Frostbite. Sorry for yellin' at ya before."

"You miss him. I can understand."

The child smiled once more before his attention got caught by something else, and Bunnymund simply watched his precious googies being chased away around the Warren by a winter, joyful spirit.

He wasn't sure of what would happen tomorrow or in the next time he'd meet Pitch Black, but he was entirely sure of _something_.

The next Easter would be the **greatest** of them all.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	35. Embarrassed

_**Hello again dearies! I'm sorry for the short chapter but my mind refused to work today after I wrote a chapter of my new story. If you guys are interested in some Jack/Pitch romance (yes they're a pair in there!) and don't mind rated M contents, you can check it out on my page or just in RoTG page. The story is called 'Throat Full of Glass', and it's a human!AU. Noooow, back to this story! I'll bring some longer chapters soon, I promise~ thank you for all your sweet reviews and everything else. Btw, the melody in here is 'Once Upon a December'. Cliche, but adorably useful. Hope you guys don't mind it.**_

 _ **If you have any requests, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Pitch finds out why Jack is so distressed.**_

* * *

 _ **35\. Embarrassed**_

No matter what Jack Frost said about himself, he'd be an eternal child. His manners, his temper tantrums were of a child. His endless curiosity, his never-ending energy and more than that, the way he tried to hide his emotions as if Pitch couldn't just read on every one of them perfectly like he'd read one of his book. And in that moment, the way the winter child hid under his blue hood and how he moved restilessly around the library was more than enough to give away that something had happened. The Boogeyman sighed, finally tired of trying to find out what was wrong about the child by himself.

A dark tendril moved silently through the shadows and wrapped itself around the magical staff, taking it from Jack's hands with a simple tug.

Away from his source of power, the child faceplanted on a cold, slicky bed created of nightmare sand and some of his own melted ice. He didn't move for a while, as if in hopes he could just disappear into the dark material.

That was pretty depressing, even for the Nightmare King.

"What's the matter with you, snowflake? You've been sulking around all day."

Jack's voice was no more than an embarrassed whisper as he moved to hide his face on the dark 'bed', muffling his words even more. When the child didn't make another attempt of speaking out loud, Pitch stood up and approached, leaning closer and closer until Jack finally noticed his presence hovering over his back.

"Last n-night... I h-heard you..."

Well that wasn't what he had been expecting to hear, and he needed to take a deep breath to calm himself down enough and not to yell.  
It'd be **impolite** , as much as he'd love to knock some sense into Jack's iced head.

"You got me _worried_ because you heard me playing the violin? Your ways of testing my patience are truly legendary."

The winter child made a soft noise that resembled a whimper and all the sudden anger raging on Pitch's body melted away. Not often Jack seemed so _vulnerable_ , so young and it was almost heartbreaking. But what could he do to make his poor child feel better when he didn't even know what was wrong? He moved away a few steps, an idea invading his mind slowly. It wouldn't hurt him to try... Sand swirled around his fingers, taking form of a violin, and he positioned himself. When the first notes echoed through the quiet room, the same melody he had played the last night, Jack moved up, sitting straight on the 'bed', and watched quietly as Pitch hummed along the bittersweet notes.

And for the first time in a long time, it felt right to play for someone else than himself and his silent, mindless companions.  
For the first time, the melody didn't sound as sad and wrong as before.

Jack's eyes were shining in astonishment and wonder, as if that was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard in his life.  
A wave of selfish pride hit him, yet his fingers didn't falter and kept carrying the melody on until the last notes.

"Are you feeling better?" Pitch finally asked, a smile creeping up his lips when the winter child nodded, eager and looking way more excited than before. "Good. You know you just needed to ask me."

"I know... but I'm glad I didn't. Thanks, dad."

And before the Nightmare King had enough time to feel dumbstruck, Jack zipped away quickly, disappearing into the dark lair.  
Well, maybe they could make a habit out of that. He wouldn't mind any of it at all.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	36. Dreams

_**I swear this chapter was meant to end up happily but my brain decided not to work anymore and I'm just so sorry for being late. Anyway, I hope you guys like it. ;v; thank you for reading, reviewing and everything else. You guys are great! Not going to reply to reviews today because for dark's sake it's almost 2am why am I still up? But I've read them and thank you so much for your support! Ideas had been gathered and I'll work on them later~ I'll update this chapter later with my replies~**_

 _ **If you have any requests, let me know!  
**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack meets Sandman.**_

* * *

 _ **36\. Dreams**_

"I don't understand it. I've tried everything, _everything_ and they still don't see me."

The winter child looked up at the bright moon that had given him so much and nothing at all at the same time. He knew he shouldn't expect for an answer, not after a hundred and sixty years of pure silence, yet a strange part of his soul simply refused to give up on such a pointless hope. Pitch was right about his fears as he was always right about everything else. Jack was scared of never finding out why.

Why had he been left alone for a hundred years? Why could no one see him, no matter what he did?  
Why did he end up like that, despised and ignored by everyone else but the Boogeyman?

It had to have a reason. Pitch had told him once that Man in Moon never did anything without a good reason.  
Maybe he changed his mind about Jack Frost down the way. Maybe he made a **mistake** that couldn't be undone.

But before he had enough time to start brooding over those depressing thoughts, a trail of golden sand illuminated the dark night, pushing his sadness away in the very moment blue eyes followed it through the skies and inside the houses. Sandman, _always_ on time. The winter child felt a smile growing on his lips as the Wind picked his body up and placed him on the top of a roof, closer to the golden lines dancing and moving softly, spreading good dreams to children everywhere.

For a moment he felt really jealous. Having a good dream, _at least once_ , would be nice.

It'd be better than the dreamless nights, than the nightmares Pitch gave him from time to time. Not that he'd ever complain about the nightmares. It was nothing compared to everything the Nightmare King had offered him through the years they've been together.

But just for once it'd be nice to feel like any other child being watched over by the Guardians of Childhood.  
He _was_ a child, right? Pitch kept saying that. He had been frozen in time, fated to be forever a boy. If he was a child, the Guardians of Childhood should protect him as well... right?

But he didn't _deserve_ it.

No one enjoyed winter as much as he loved it with all his being. No one noticed the beauty in each snowflake he built patiently. No one welcomed the cold that only brought death, the snowstorms and blizzards that were no more than a nuisance.

Jack Frost was winter, therefore he was a nuisance as well.  
The only that seemed to think differently was Pitch Black.

They were meant to be together because cold and dark were the only things that could go work together.

His fingers touched the dream sand gently before he tried to stop himself, a giggle bubbling on his throat as he watched glittering dolphins swim around him, screeching happily before freezing oh so slowly and falling at his feet, useless and beautiful as broken snowflakes melting under the warm sun. That was something he still couldn't understand as well. Why couldn't he control himself, his frost? Pitch always made it look so simply... His eyes still followed the gold trails for some seconds, wondering if someone would ever notice if he tried to steal some dream sand for himself or if it'd be really bad... Just this once, he promised himself.

As he stretched out his fingers again, a soft tap on his shoulder made him turn and almost fall over the roof at the sudden, overwhelming presence _so close_ to him.  
It was **Sandman** himself, with such a strange expression on his golden face that Jack felt smaller than the little man.

Suddenly, symbols made of pure sand appeared over the Dreamweaver's head and Jack blinked, his curiosity taking over the fear blooming on his chest in a matter of seconds. Quick, small images formed and fell away to be replaced by new ones - and no matter how much he tried to focus, he couldn't just understand what the golden man was trying to show him.

"I-I'm sorry, I can't understand you..."

The Sandman blinked as if he had been awaken from a sturpor, and something on his expression softened. His eyes were sweet and almost caring, and when the golden images showed up over his head once more, they were slow and clear. A snowflake and a question mark, a little arrow pointing right to Jack's chest... A game of guessing! He enjoyed playing it with Pitch's mares sometimes, when they weren't chasing him around the lair and trying to bite him. But it seemed different here, over Sandman's head.

"Who... am I?" Jack guessed shyly, beaming at Sandman's nod. "My name is Jack Frost." And a wave of shame and mild panic flushed over his face as the golden man pointed at the frozen sand at his feet, looking not so friendly anymore. "O-oh... I didn't m-mean to mess with your sand, I-I swear! I just... wanted t-to know how it feels like t-to have a nice dream, just once..."

The staff felt weird under his tight grip, yet he noticed how the little man seemed dumbstruck by his words.  
More symbols appeared over his head and it took Jack a longer moment than before to comprehend them.

"You wanna know... if you never gave me a dream?" The Dreamweaver nodded once more. "N-no, you never did... How old am I? 160. N-not much, right?" The winter child allowed a nervous laugh escape his lips at the sight of Sandman furrowing his brows in concern, his fingers twirling over the frozen staff. "P-Pitch keeps saying I'm still a child."

Two words, rushed but written in an elegant font that almost resembled Pitch's, appeared on the sand, replacing the little images from before.

 _Pitch Black?_

It was Jack's turn to nod. The Sandman frowned even more, worry and some kind of anger as clear as day on his golden features. The sand over his head kept forming more letters and words beautifully written, and the winter child simply stared in awe at the trick. _Is it why you never had a good dream?_ It was written, and the child blinked in confusion at the question. _Because of Pitch Black?_

"No! We've been friends for only 60 years... I've never had a good dream since I woke up as Jack Frost. N-not blaming you! I don't sleep much either, so it's kinda pointless. " He felt himself saying a bit too quickly at Sandman's sudden desolated expression, shame showering over his cold body once more.

Someone so important and busy as the **Sandman** shouldn't be concerned about _him_! He was still trying to understand how he and Pitch Black, the forsaken Boogeyman, were still together! No, the Big Four had more important things to worry about than a winter spirit that didn't even know how to control himself.

Blue, teary eyes blinked quickly, trying to push away the stupid thoughts and tears.  
It _was not_ the time to look so pathetic, so weak, so fragile. Not in front of such a great entity as Sandman.

"But nice to meet you anyway! Your dreams, they look really pretty.. a-and sorry for messing with them! S-see ya!"

And before the dream giver could stop him, the Wind had already picked him up, rushing him home, filling his ears with her comforting, shushing words that never failed in calm his sudden distress.

At least he could always count on Wind to be by his side.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	37. Rain

_**Another short chapter. Why am I even surprised? *sighes* Well, I'm really sorry about it. My life is kinda messy right now but I can't leave you guys on the dark. Besides, I love writing this story! Thank you all for your wonderful reviews, it means a lot to me~ anD OHHH +100 REVIEWS I CAN'T EVEN OMG thank you thank you I love you all so much!**_

 _ **PlaidOtaku: What a lovely idea! It kept swirling on my mind for all day long, and I shall write it soon. I hope you'll like it though, but thank you! ;v;  
frosteddragonheart: Thank you! I'm really glad you enjoyed the story~**_

 _ **If you have any request, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: Jack Frost loves the rain.**_

* * *

 _ **37\. Rain**_

There were a few things he could say he loved _dearly_. Being a seasonal spirit, he loved the nature and the other seasons, even if his fellow seasonal 'brothers' and 'sisters' hated him as much as they could. He didn't try to understand why they hated him so much, and he never dared to ask any of them. Deep inside he knew the answers perfectly well, yet he was too childish and scared to allow the truth to come out.

While the others meant life and new beginnings, winter only meant death and cold.  
He could sugar coat it with his games and fun, yet there was no masking it.

No one would ever love winter as much as he did.

Even so, there was something else he loved with all his frozen being.

He stood still on the middle of his pond, the ice thicker at his touch, because no matter if it was still spring, that was a little treat others had the **decency** to give him. That was _his_ pond, his home. He could keep it frozen forever, as long as his ice didn't spread anywhere else but his part of the woods during the other seasons. And for that, he had promised not to bring winter to the others' homes as well.

A thunder echoed closely, bringing him back from his thoughts.

His breath hitched in painful antecipation and in the very moment the first drops of rain touched his hair and rolled down his face, the magical staff escaped his fingers. Its soft clattering against the frozen waters went unheard, the conduit completely forgotten.

The winter child closed his eyes, simply **feeling**.

He could feel the rain brushing the layers of frost off his skin. He could feel the angry, bittersweet drops running down his face, trailing his cheeks in a way his tears would never follow. His clothes, soaked to the last inch, clung at his body. His lungs expanded more and more at every ragged breath, finally free from the ice constricting them. His heart seemed to beat a little faster, a little stronger against his chest.

 _Melting_. He was melting, being wiped away by the rain yet he couldn't care less.

He felt alive, he felt real for once and it was as painful as it was beautiful.

Warmth invaded his silent world, a possessive embrace keeping him close, the powerful presence making him shudder in fear and rejoice in excitement at the same time.

 _You_ _ **are**_ _real._

The soft words echoed around him, inside his mind, reaching his very fragile spirit. Fingers that burned like pure fire gripped his arms, holding him in a gentle touch that meant much more than he could care to understand in that moment.

 _ **We**_ _are real._

And Jack relaxed once more, allowing himself to get lost in the unnamed feelings washing over him along the rain. He may not be real for the children he cared about, he may not be more than a nuisance to the others but it didn't matter. He didn't care about it because in that moment he was real enough, alive enough and in the arms of the only person that he loved and hated more than anything else.

Yes, he loved the rain and all the good things it brought.  
And he knew Pitch Black felt the same.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	38. Compassion

**_Hellooo! First of all, I'm sorry for being late. I'm moving into a new home in a new city and my life is a mess right now, and I'm sorry for it. I'll probably edit this chapter tomorrow so please be kind, it's 1am and I' and writing in my phone so... Yeah. Sorry for it. Thank you so much for your kind reviews, it means a lot to me!_**

 ** _If you have any requests, let me know!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

 ** _Chapter updated: 04/04/2016_**

* * *

 ** _Summary: In which Jack meets a strange spirit._**

* * *

 _ **38\. Compassion**_

His fingers curled and uncurled restlessly around Pitch's robe, keeping himself as close as it was possible to the Nightmare King, just as he had been told to do. The shadows moved and danced on the walls, whispering cruel taunts whenever he got too close and reminding him that he wasn't home and those shadows weren't friendly like Pitch's. Never before darkness seemed so scary, so **overwhelming** like now. The cold there felt different, unsettling and unnerving. The Boogeyman shushed him gently, smoothing his hair in soft motions as they crossed the huge entrance hall, and Jack relaxed under the touch, pushing the fear aside.

That had been his idea to accompany Pitch to one of those secret meetings.  
That had been his idea to step into the Dark Circle despite the danger hiding in there.

Then they finally reached the huge gates that slowly opened at their approach, and the winter child felt his throat constricting in a very painful way as he took a look inside the courtyard. The place was nothing like he had expected, and he couldn't even remember what was it he had been expecting to see in there. The garden was beautiful, dark flowers he couldn't name blossoming and thriving in the night. Little fountains here and there seemed to shine in the dark, and there were countless spirits gathered all around the place, chatting and whispering.

Their clothes were elegant, the finest Jack had ever seen in his entire life. Some had blank masks over their faces, others didn't even pay attention to them as they crossed the courtyard. A few growled and bared teeth at the winter child, yet Pitch didn't falter and snarled back at them, putting them in their places once more.

Jack couldn't be more happy to have the Boogeyman around.

"Pitch Black."

The voice came suddenly from behind, soft and filled with poison. The winter child almost jumped out of his skin at the sound, barely noticing the moment Pitch's grip on his shoulder tightened, the fear knocking the air out of his frozen lungs. A shadow moved quickly around them before taking form of a thin man, as graceful and tall as Pitch Black himself, yet his body didn't seem consistent, too unreal to be properly human-looking. Even if his features were soft and almost gentle, the rest of him was like a bunch of darkness clinging at a rotten corpse and old clothes. For a moment he felt like staring at a dense fog pretending to be real, to be more than what he really was. Eyes as red as blood fixed on the winter child, shining hungrily as it seemed he could look deep into Jack's very soul and see something than no one else could.

And after a second, the creature just looked **so pleased** with whatever he had found it was almost _terrifying_.

Jack took a step back, fingers gripping at Pitch's robe tightly.  
The strange spirit smiled friendly, showing teeth strangely white for such a dark, untouchable creature.

"There's no need to be afraid, little one." The spirit cooed softly, and his voice sounded gentler than before. "As much as the others do not enjoy your presence here, no one has a death wish."

"I didn't expect to see _you_ here, Phaethon." Pitch replied before Jack could even think about opening his mouth, golden eyes never leaving the foggy spirit that only offered him a crooked smile in return. "You made it very clear you didn't enjoy our little parties."

"Oh but I do appreciate the _misery_ swirling on this place, my dear King. It's adorably sweet." The spirit called Phaethon floated closer, eyes once more completely focused on Jack's face once more. "And thanks to this little preciosity, they're more miserable than ever. You don't even know why, do you? So innocent..." The child felt his heart beating too fast against his chest as Phaethon stretched out a hand, resting his fingers on his chin. And to his surprise, the spirit's touch felt like the Wind's, wonderfully cold and barely there. "You're much more than a simple winter spirit. Can you keep secrets?"

Jack didn't even notice the moment he nodded softly, his damned curiosity always getting the best of him.

"You should've died _all alone_." A cruel shiver ran down his spine as he heard those words, Phaethon's voice no more than a whisper now, his eyes shining even more red, more hungry than before. "That was your fate. And then Pitch Black destroyed what had been designed for you, staying by your side as you drowned. You didn't die scared and lonely."

"Phaethon..." Pitch's voice held a hint of danger and accusation on his tone, yet the red-eyed spirit simply ignored him, approaching Jack even more.

"You should've been mine, pet." The winter child bit his lower lip, pushing back the horrified whimper that bubbled up his throat. Even so, Phaethon's voice was sweet and caring, as if he was almost happy things ended up differently than what 'he had planned'. "But your fear was greater, and Pitch found you first. In his blind hunger, he didn't notice he offered you more than his silent company."

"W-what do you mean?"

"His _compassion_. As Pitch Black, he couldn't feel it. But there's someone else within him, and this person saw in you his lost child. And the sorrow of a mourning father is greater than any darkness lurking on one's heart. Your spirit was empty, and you took all of his sorrow, his empathy for yourself. The moment the Moon made you Jack Frost was the moment you became something else." Soft fingers brushed Jack's face in gentle motions, as if Phaethon was just being too careful to touch him. "You, my love, are a beautiful spirit of compassion. Wonderfully rare and fragile, for compassion can be often broken and bent into hatred and despair."

"Enough."

And before Jack could really comprehend what was happening, Phaethon had been pushed away from him. Pitch stood too close, his fingers buried deep into his shoulders tightly, in an almost possessive grip.

"I'm tired of your riddles, misfortune. This meeting is merely political, and I'm sure you're not interested in whatever we're going to discuss."

"Of course. Please, enjoy the party. We shall meet again, snowdrop."

And then Phaethon was gone.  
Jack didn't leave Pitch Black's side until the end of the night, yet those words kept swirling on his head for days.

He just wished he could understand anything the spirit had said.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!  
See ya!~**_


	39. Misfortune

_**Helloooo again! And look at it, I have a proper computer again but my head is still a mess and I just don't understand why I even wrote this chapter. Please forgive me for it. Buuuut I've updated the previous chapter, so please take a look at it before you go into this chapter. I'll probably disappear for the next few days, but I'll be working on some ideas I've had and the ones you guys told me. I'm really sorry for the mess in the last chapter, and I'll try to make up for that one as soon as my life goes back to normal *sigh***_

 _ **Thank you for your lovely reviews, though!**_

 _ **PlaidOtaku:** I promise I'll working on that idea of yours! I'm just trying to make it really good for you ;v; and Phaethon will be appearing on some chapters from now on, I think. He's kinda a good-bad guy ;v;  
_ _ **Ivory718:** Thank you, dear! I'm moving to São Paulo, it's a big city here in Brazil and I'm just too excited and scared because I've always lived in a small city and everything is new and big omg ;v; and thank you again, I'm glad you've liked the chapter!_

 _ **If you have any request, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack meets Phaethon again.**_

* * *

 _ **39\. Misfortune**_

Jack Frost was the most curious creature on Earth, and he surely would end up getting killed or worse because of it.  
Not that he really cared. He just wished to understand everything, to not be left in the dark.

He was tired of being lost all the time, of being blind. He wanted to know why he was there, what he was meant to do because if the Moon brought him back from the dead, it needed to mean something more than 'spread winter wherever you want to'.

Pitch had already told him everything he knew, but it wasn't enough to satiate his endless curiosity.  
And he knew the perfect person to answer some of his questions.

Bare feet touched the dark ground lightly, frost following his quiet steps as the winter child went deeper into the woods. He pushed the fear away as much as he could, for if Pitch Black found out what he was planning to do, Jack Frost would be a dead spirit, and that was a terrible thought. No, he'd rather be quickly on his personal quest and go home before the Nightmare King would ever notice he had been gone. It was the middle of winter, after all. He had a good excuse to be late.

"And there's the little snowdrop."

He turned on his feet quickly, staff ready to defend himself if it was needed. A soft laughed echoed close, long fingers touching the crook of his weapon and caressing the wood as it was an old friend. The dark spirit seemed a bit fuller now, more real than the last time. His face was still deadly pale, long dark hair falling over his shoulders, yet his eyes were friendly. His clothes looked a bit better too, less ragged and less dirty. Phaethon was as beautiful as Pitch, with some kind of paternal aura hovering around him, and for the first time since he stepped into that place Jack relaxed. He couldn't really understand why, but it felt right to be around the spirit.

As if he _belonged_ in there, as much as he belonged in Pitch's lair, in the shadows they both carried.  
It felt like **coming home** after a really long trip.

"Is there any special reason you're here? Did Pitch send you?"

"No. I just... what you told me, at the Circle." The winter child felt his breath failing him under a sudden, unnamed pressure over his chest, yet he forced himself to keep the fake courage. He **needed** to know. "What did you really mean by all that?"

"You're a curious little thing, dear. Not everyone appreciates it."

"And I suppose _you_ do." Phaethon made a pleased noise, nodding softly, and Jack relaxed even more. Maybe it was a good time to start asking, and he couldn't let the chance slip away, not when he was too close in getting some answers. "Please, tell me. I need to know what I am, why I'm here."

"Do you know _what I am_ , snowflake?"

The sudden question washed his anxiety away in less than a second, the strange excitement that had blossomed on his chest quickly disappearing.

And in that moment, he finally noticed he knew nothing about Phaethon but the location of his home. It was... _frustrating_.

He shook his head slowly, fingers trembling around the staff.

"I'm the spirit of misfortune. I'm the one who brings bad luck, the one who causes desastrous events all over the world." Phaethon offered him a gentle, patient smile. Jack crooked his head, trying to understand where that new game would take him. "Pitch Black is the Nightmare King. He bring fear and bad dreams to children and adults alike, he feeds on their fear as I feed on their misery. Now pet, do you know why we do it? Can you tell me why we exist?"

"Because... the world needs a balance." The winter child replied slowly. He was a seasonal spirit, after all. Balance ruled his powers, his world as a winter spirit. Unfortunately, it seemed he was the only one among his fellow siblings that still believed in that. "Because if only _good things_ existed... they'd be pointless. Dull. Humans wouldn't understand love if they'd never hated. Without fear, they'd do stupid things and get hurt, or even killed. Without misfortune, they wouldn't cherise their good luck... without despair, there'd be no compassion."

"You're smarter than you believe." The spirit of misfortune hummed happily, his fingers touching a cold cheek for a long second. "You may not have noticed it, but you've changed him. You brought back some things he had treasured dearly but had lost to the shadows. He saved you from a lonely death, and in return you saved him from a lonely future. You asked me what you were when you already know the answer. Tell me now. What are _you_?"

"I'm..." Jack hesitated, rolling the staff over his hands nervously. His head was spinning, yet he didn't want to disappoint Phaethon. Not when the tal spirit was staring down at him with such bright expectation shining on his red eyes. "I'm Jack Frost..."

"You're **much more** than a name. Names can be changed, twisted, tainted." The dark-haired man insisted, taking a step to the side to show something behind him and Jack blinked in astonishment at the sight. There was a mirror standing by itself in the middle of the woods, gold and silver and dark. The frame was beautiful, yet the glass was foggy and distorted, showing nothing but a messy blur of white and blue. "Again, child. What are you?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because your misery is painful, as much as it's terribly delicious. I wonder if this is how Pitch feels like when you're scared..." Phaethon exhaled a fake sigh and motioned at the mirror once more. "You came here for answers. This is all I can offer you, so think. _What are you?_ "

Jack wanted to spit a bitter retort, to make the dark spirit understand he couldn't see a thing on that stupid mirror. He couldn't even remember why he had even bothered to go there in the first place. He didn't need more questions numbing his head, he didn't need those riddles making his mind spin. He looked away and forced his eyes shut, trying to gather his thoughts together because no matter how hard he looked, there was nothing to see on the glass. He felt angry and even more frustrated at himself. Why was it so hard? Why couldn't he even understand what he really was?

Cold fingers gripped his chin oh so gently, yet he didn't even try to stop Phaethon from forcing him to look up at the mirror again, a hand resting on his shoulder.

His touch was firm, gracious and as real as it could be. It made the anger flow away from his center, the frustration die right on its core. There was nothing at all to feel.

"You give yourself too little credit."

"How can I know who I am... if I don't even know who I _was_?" Jack felt a pathetic sound escape his lips, yet he didn't even care.

"Because the one you were lives no more. It died the moment you fell on that lake. It doesn't mean the one you are now shouldn't thrive. It's your choice, snowdrop. Do you want to know what I see in there?" The child nodded, and the fingers holding his shoulder gave him a reassuring squeeze. "I see Winter's child that spreads joy and fear, cold and fun. I see Pitch Black's dearest son, a lonely trickster that only wants some attention. I see a bright spirit of compassion that had been able to bring back someone deep buried and lost into darkness, someone that had been beyond any help until now."

"So why... why is it so _difficult_ to see it by myself?"

"You'll see." Phaethon's voice was filled with such certainty that was hard not to believe on his words in that moment. "I promise. Until then, feel free to pay me a visit whenever you want. Misery loves company, after all."

Jack lost count of how many times they met again after that, and even if he could barely understand whatever was it Phaethon was talking about, being around the spirit of misfortune wasn't bad at all. It was always good to feel wanted in somewhere else than his home, it was nice to have a new friend. But if he needed to be sincere, it felt just _right_ to push all his doubts, all his torment over the dark spirit because sometimes Pitch wasn't enough, the fear and nightmares weren't enough to shush his distressed soul, because the darkness was too much to bear all by himself.

Misery **truly** loved company.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	40. Bedtime

_**Helloooo! My things are almost on the place but I'm still lacking a proper computer so I'm really sorry. I just wanted to write something kinda sweet and oh well, I hope you guys like it. Aaaand it's time to update the timeline, yay! 40 chapters already, I can't even believe it. And guys, I'm really really thankful for all your support, every review and follow &favorite makes me so happy I wish I had enough time to thank each one of you properly.**_

 _ **PlaidOtaku: Good, Phaethon is kinda nice uvu and thank you! I'll try to post your request once I have my computer back and I really want it to be a good chapter ;v;  
Ravenna Frost: OH YOU COME HERE *gives you virtual cookies* it's so nice to find a fellow Cole fan! He's just so KDHFKDJHF i can't even but thank you for your lovely reviews they made me so happy and I'm so glad you recognized the references!**_

 _ **If you have any request, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Pitch tells a story.**_

* * *

 _ **40\. Bedtime**_

"Pitch, can you tell me a story?"

The Nightmare King blinked once, twice before allowing himself to understand Jack's request and for a long moment he wondered if his ears were deceiving him because _no one_ on that damned planet would ask **him** to 'tell a story'. Yet when his eyes focused on the winter child half buried in the snow that was supposed to be his mattress, there was no more doubt. Jack was staring up at him with pure expectation and curiosity shining on those inhuman blue eyes, almost begging him to stay and tell him a stupid bedtime story.

"I don't know any stories, child."

"Tell me how it happened. How you became.. you."

Pitch hesitated, feeling his breath stuck on his throat in a very annoying way.

No one had never asked him how it had happened. No one never cared to hear his side of the story and, if he should be honest, he couldn't really blame them. Why would they care about a monster that only knew how to bring chaos and darkness wherever he went? Why would they care about the one that was their perfect opposite? For a moment he ran fingers through his raven hair, unsure of what to do.

Jack didn't need to know about the horrid details.  
He shouldn't know about the cruel, twisted creature Pitch Black really was.

A cold, soft touch invaded his world and he blinked again, forcing himself to focus on the winter child still staring at him. And even if he was scared of Jack's reaction, he knew that was a stupid fear because no matter what he did, no matter what he was Jack would never leave him. They've been together for long enough, and if the child didn't leave yet after all those decades, there was nothing on the whole seven galaxies that would make him go away now.

Small fingers curled up on his, the gentle frost caressing his skin, easing his constant heat. Pitch smiled at the winter spirit, covering the little hand with his own.

"This is not a pretty story, nor a short one."

"I didn't ask for either of those. I just want to know."

The Boogeyman nodded, taking a deep breath to gather all the courage he didn't really feel in that moment, and started talking. The words escaped his lips sweetly, easily as the memories washed over his mind, making him remember over and over again of how much he had gained and lost, of how deep he had fallen through the ages, poisoning the old wounds that he had been so sure didn't exist anymore. But even if it hurt to keep talking, there was something else preventing him to stop in the middle of his own tales, something he didn't even dare to pay much attention until the end of the story.

He told Jack about the times he were the greatest hero of all, fierce and brave. He took a good amount of time on each detail he could remember, tasting the sweetness of his honorable past that had been buried deep into stone. He recounted times when he had been a father and a good husband, and even if he couldn't remember their faces he knew he had loved them dearly and missed them even more.

But he never thought it'd hurt as much as it did as he recounted his fall. Years and years of listening to their mad pleas and taunts had finally affected him, and he let himself be tricked into believing the fearlings had his precious daughter captive. In his sickened blindness he didn't fight them, and the shadows consumed his soul and mind completely. Kozmotis Pitchiner, the Golden Hero, was no more. Pitch Black, the Nightmare King, took his place forever.

He didn't even notice how badly he was trembling until Jack gave his hand a gentle, yet firm squeeze, reassuring him to keep talking. The boy's eyes were filled with a strange blankness that didn't betray his real emotions, but they were bright with unshed, icy tears.

"It wasn't your fault." Jack said softly before Pitch had enough time to think about what to say next, and the certainty on his voice just made the Boogeyman hesitate. "I know you tried. No one..no one'd stay sane for too long. You... you're really brave. You should be a Guardian, like them."

"Sometimes I wonder what's going on in this little head of yours." Pitch retorted quickly, tapping the boy's temple a bit too harsher than necessary. "There's no way I..."

"You should. It wasn't your fault. They should've helped you but instead they just hurt you and pushed you away. They're as bad as you, then."

Oh, the sweet innocence of a child...  
A sincere smile that he hadn't felt for a really long time appeared on his lips, and Pitch just leaned closer to place a gentle kiss on Jack's forehead.

"Time to sleep, Jack. I wish I could give you good dreams."

"I wish you could have good dreams, too."

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_

* * *

What happened so far (aka I swear I'll make a proper timeline sometime):

 _ **1712:** Hopeless (chapter 11)  
_ _ **1812:** Abandoned (chapter 1)  
_ _ **1812:** Dangerous (chapter 23)  
_ _ **1812:** Hated (chapter 33)  
_ _ **1813:** Anxious (chapter 14)  
_ _ **1813:** Amazed (chapter 15)  
_ _ **1815:** Comfortable (chapter 2)  
_ _ **1817:** Remembering (chapter 20)  
_ _ **1818:** Curious (chapter 5)  
_ _ **1820:** Fascinated (chapter 12)  
_ _ **1820:** Embarrassed (chapter 35)  
_ _ **1823:** Fly (chapter 32)  
_ _ **1836:** Rain (chapter 37)  
_ _ **1840:** Alone (chapter 6)  
_ _ **1850:** Devastated (chapter 7)  
_ _ **1853:** Old (chapter 22)  
_ _ **1861:** Compassion (chapter 38)  
_ _ **1862:** Misfortune (chapter 39)  
_ _ **1872:** Dreams (chapter 36)  
_ _ **1875:** Confused (chapter 21)  
_ _ **1881:** Bedtime (chapter 40) / CURRENT CHAPTER  
_ _ **1894:** Delighted (chapter 26)  
_ _ **1912:** Stubborn (chapter 29)  
_ _ **1968:** Afraid (chapter 3)  
_ _ **1973:** Bored (chapter 4)  
_ _ **2012:** Furious (chapter 8)  
_ _ **2012:** Panicky (chapter 9)  
_ _ **2012:** Determined (chapter 10)  
_ _ **2012:** Resentful (chapter 13)  
_ _ **2012:** Hungry (chapter 19)  
_ _ **2013:** Exhausted (chapter 16)  
_ _ **2013:** Content (chapter 17)  
_ _ **2013:** Joyful (chapter 18)  
_ _ **2013:** Hurt (chapter 24)  
_ _ **2014:** Horrified (chapter 25)  
_ _ **2014:** Worried (chapter 27)  
_ _ **2014:** Broken (chapter 28)  
_ _ **2014:** Frustrated (chapter 30)  
_ _ **2014:** Concerned (chapter 31)  
_ _ **2014:** Forgive (chapter 34)_


	41. Nightshade

_**Hello, and welcome back to another chapter I'll probably edit later. Oh well, that's what happens when I'm lacking a proper computer and proper sleep. Anyway, I just wanted to post something today so I'm sorry about the shitty chapter *sighs* oh, and thank you all again for all the reviews, follows and favorites. I swear I'll post good chapters soon~**_

 _ **PlaidOtaku:** I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! I wished I could work on it better but oh well. Maybe I'll edit all the chapters sometime soon, I dunno. **  
**_ _ **Ravenna Frost:** Thank you lots, dearie! ;v;_

 ** _If you have any request, let me know!_**

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack gets another friend.**_

* * *

 _ **41\. Nightshade**_

"Would you mind giving me one of your little pests?"

The velvet voice echoing through the frozen room almost made the poor winter child jump out of his skin, fear running wild through his veins even if he knew Pitch would never hurt him as others did. The Boogeyman, the one that only lived to spread fear and terror, was the only one that really cared for him. How ironic. And then the question finally made some sense to him and Jack turned on his snowy bed to look up at his guardian.

"Sure, but why?"

"There's something I need to... test." Golden eyes burned in antecipation, even more brighter than the usual under the moonlight invading the room. "You have my word it'll bring you no harm."

Well, that was interesting and curious. Pitch had never bothered to care about his bunnies, only praising Jack for his good work with them sometimes, when he got more control over his powers and had been able to create more frost creatures. Even so the child nodded, offering the Nightmare King the little bunny he had been playing with before.

"It's perfect." And Pitch was talking again, his fingers running through the bunny's snow-like fur softly. "All it needs is a little touch of fear..."

And Jack watched, shocked and surprised, as a trail of black sand invaded and corrupted the little creature's body, devouring everything on its way quickly, twisting and becoming something else. The bunny escaped the Boogeyman's arms in the next second, growing larger and stronger and soon taking form of something entirely different from before, bigger and more real, healthier even. It took him only a mere second to understand, and he couldn't find words to voice his dizzy thoughts in that moment.

It wasn't a bunny anymore, but a mare made of ice that was slowly melting into nightmare sand. She was as large as Pitch Black himself, her body glittering under the light. Her eyes were silver, not golden or red as the ones he had been used to see, and somehow she looked so gentle, so lovely... A soft neigh escaped her as she approached the bed, and Jack didn't even help the urge to touch her long, cold neck, feeling the strenght of her muscles that didn't dissipate under his touch. There was no sand dripping from her, as if she wasn't a real nightmare. As if she had another **purpose**.

Another _master_.

"She's yours." Pitch said softly, a hint of smile hiding behind his sweet voice. "I can't keep you safe all the time, so she'll watch over you whenever you need it."

"She's... beautiful." The winter child muttered, smiling as the mare whinnied again. Her nose was strangely warm, yet he didn't push her away as she touched his face almost as she was thanking him. "W-what's her name?"

"Well, why don't you name her?"

"I... Nightshade." The name popped up on his mind before he could really think about it, and the mare made a content noise against his cheek. "She likes it."

"Nightshade it is, then."

And now Jack had another friend that cared about him.  
He couldn't be more happy.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	42. Giants

_**Hello and again a short chapter because I really need to put my life into place before I focus on anything else. I'm really sorry about it, dearies. I wish I could write better things for you guys, buuuut I'm planning to edit every chapter in this story so I hope I can make up for all the terrible chapters I've posted for the last weeks. But thank you all for your support, it means a lot to me and I can't thank you guys enough. The edits are coming soon and I'll let you know when I've updated some chapter.**_

 _ **I'll change some things on the previous chapters to make them fit on the ones I'm planning to write, so yeah. Big things coming, I believe.**_

 _ **Btw, I'm looking for a beta. If you're interested, send me a PM~**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack has a new fear.**_

* * *

 _ **42\. Giants**_

"Pitch, is there any giants in the sky?"

For the hundredth time in the same hour Pitch Black felt himself sighing in exasperation without even thinking about his harsh reaction, not even sure why he kept trying to read a book he wouldn't be able to finish tonight as he had planned. Of course Jack wasn't worried about it, too lost in his childish mind to pay attention to anything else around him, and for once the older spirit decided to really look at his ward.

Jack was spread on the floor, staff carelessly resting by one of his sides as Nightshade laid on the other, whinning softly now and then, messing with the boy's white hair or simply resting her nose on his head. Jack barely noticed her, blue eyes completely focused on the book on his hands - _Jack and the Beanstalk_ , Pitch noticed - as if he was reading the most important thing on the world and couldn't think about anything else in the moment, with such a concentrated expression on his face that it'd be almost cute if Pitch wasn't extremely annoyed by now.

"I don't know, Jack."

"I mean, if there is a giant up there..." And the winter child finally moved, leaning his body up on one elbow to look over his shoulder, his **stupid** fear invading the room too quickly for Pitch not to dwell on in for a long moment. "Do you think it'd... try to _eat me_?"

It was horrifyingly _brilliant_ how easily Jack could push the Boogeyman's almost endless patience over its limits, sometimes without even trying. It was wonderfully cruel of how much he reminded Pitch of his lost daughter, of how she used to do the same whenever they were together.

"Are you even _listening_ to yourself? For darkness' sake, you've been flying all over the world for almost three hundred years!"

"I know, I know! But I've never been high enough..."

"There are no giants in the sky, Jack. The only thing you should worry about is how often Wind drop you on your head. It's starting to affect your little mind." Pitch felt a smile dancing on his lips as Jack protested, looking down at his book once more. "But if you're really interested, I've heard they were hiding on ocean deep caves."

"So there's no way I could be eaten by a giant, right?"

"Unless you've find a way to stay underwater without freezing yourself or the whole ocean, I'm sure no one's eager to eat you for lunch. No one but _me_ if you don't shut up at once."

Jack simply hummed in response, but turned back to his book and didn't say a word for the next hours.  
Oh, **blessed** silence.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	43. Protection

_**When will I ever post a proper chapter again? I wish I knew, but for now please forgive me for this chapter but I'll probably edit this one later. I'm really sorry for it. Buuuuut, I have news for you guys! Remember when I said I'd be editing all the chapters? Well, I've just updated chapter 1 and it's waaay different from the original one I've posted so please, go back and take a look at it when you have time. I have a proper concept of Pitch and Jack and their relationship and I hope you guys enjoy it.**_

 _ **Aaand new arc! I'll have my computer working on the weekend and I'll have more time to really write something good enough for you guys. Thank you all for your support, reviews and follows &favorites. It means a lot to me.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which the Guardians realize Pitch is back.**_

* * *

 _ **43\. Protection**_

Nicholas St. North had never believed they'd have to worry about Pitch Black again, not after his utmost fall on the Dark Ages. Now it was the age of the Guardians, and every child in the world was safe from the Boogeyman's maleficent influence. They shouldn't care about nightmares and fear running wild through that planet because Pitch wasn't a threat anymore, because now there were the Guardians protecting everything the children held dear within their innocent, pure hearts. The Boogeyman was no more than an old fairytale that no one believed in and no one should be scared of ever again.

Yet Sandy's face and silent words left no space for doubt.  
The Nightmare King was back, and he was interested in a child.

It was terrifying, to say the least.  
They should've noticed it **before**. They couldn't have let a child fall on the Boogeyman's hands, even if such child was...

"Jack Frost?" Bunnymund's deep accent cut through the heavy silence, bringing the jolly man back from his thoughts and forcing him to pay attention to their emergency meeting. "Ya mean that winter kiddo that only causes trouble all the time? That invaded mah Warren looking for..."

"Pitch Black." Tooth nodded quickly, wriggling her hands together in a gesture of worry and confusion that North knew very well by now. "He came into my Palace once looking for Pitch. I didn't believe in him, I didn't even know Pitch was still alive. But that poor thing was so desperated..."

And just in that moment North remembered that little fact. He remembered the moment a winter spirit invaded his workshop looking for someone, so distressed and terrified as a child that had lost a parent in the middle of a snowstorm. But it had been a long time ago, almost thirty years had passed and it was a surprise to see how little he had payed attention to Jack Frost.

"Maybe dah ratbag put some spell on kiddo." Bunnymund shrugged from his spot, obviously ignoring the danger hovering over their heads, yet North wouldn't let it pass so easily. They were the Guardians of children, after all. "Who cares? Frost is better off our way."

"If Pitch put some spell on Jack Frost, it's our job to keep him safe."

"Ya can't be serious, mate."

"Come, to the sleigh! Ve must find Jack!"

And even if North knew that was a bad idea - because he could feel it right on his belly - that was the right thing to do because Pitch Black was planning something and involving a child on his terrible, cruel plans. Jack Frost may hold the record on the Naughty List, but he was a child nonetheless, and it was their job to protect that little winter spirit that had tricked every living person in the world. Oh, that would be harder than he'd like to admit.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	44. Prison

_**Hellooooo again! I finally, FINALLY have my computer back and I couldn't be more happy! And I really like this chapter, hooray! I'll be going back to the poorly written chapters and rewrite them all into something nice, so please don't mind me. I'm glad you guys are still around. It means a lot to me, it really does. Thank you all for your kind support. You guys are awesome!**_

 _ **And I just had another idea of a fanfic. Someone stop me please please please. Maybe I'll just make it as a special chapter instead of creating a new story. What do you guys think? It'll be something related to the series Once Upon a Time, kinda. I'm in love with their idea. Let me know what you think!**_

 ** _Oh, and I'm still looking for a beta. Anyone interested, please send me a PM or leave a review and I'll PM you :)  
Thanks in advance!_**

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack finds himself into a strange place.**_

* * *

 _ **44\. Prison**_

The overwhelming darkness was the first thing he noticed when he woke up, his foggy mind swirling over and over again as if he had just left a giant roller coaster. It clung at his body like a blanket, yet that darkness felt strange, unfamiliar. It was cold and silent, too different from what he always felt at home. At home darkness meant warmth and safety, whispering voices that taunted and cherised him at the same time. At home it meant Pitch and his absolute overprotectiveness that sometimes verged on the limits of an insane kind of obssession. In that strange place though, darkness felt wrong, gruesome even and he wanted to stay away from it as much as it was possible.

After a minute or two, he tried to move his limbs and pushed his body up. He felt weak, tired, drained of all his powers. Another minute rolled by and he finally sat up on a cozy bed, his fingers getting lost on the softness of the sheets. His mind refused to work properly, to put pieces into the right places and allow him to remember what had happened and why he was there, in a room he didn't know and that surely wasn't his. A wave of fear hit hard on his stomach and a sense of _I need to get out I need to go home_ assaulted him with full force.

"Pitch?" His voice was no more than a whisper, much like as those he used to hear around his home. "Pitch, this is no fun."

But even if deep inside he knew Pitch had nothing to do with his hopeless state, it still hurt not to hear an answer, to hear that velvet voice echoing from every shadow in the room like it had happened so many times before. Jack had expected it to be just another joke, a punishment for his latest tricks but he had been wrong. His legs were shaking and numb yet he forced himself to stand up, only to fall back on the bed again. An annoyed growl escaped his lips and for the first time he noticed the real reason of his sudden weakness.

His staff was nowhere to be seen.

His frozen heart seemed to beat faster and faster against his chest, panic threatening to overcome his senses in that right moment. He couldn't understand what was happening, why he was alone in that strange place and without his staff. It was just too much to bear all at once. In an instant of useless clarity, he wrapped his arms around himself, allowing his mind to get lost in the coldness of his own body, in the unsteady beating of his heart. He knew he just needed to calm down and think, even if it was terribly difficult by now. He needed to focus. Pitch wasn't around to protect him from whoever did that, so he needed to stay calm and _just think_. Panicking never helped anyone before and it wouldn't start helping him now.

Breath in. Breath out.  
In. Out. In. Out.

The fog blurring his mind slowly disappeared as he finally started to calm down. He could hear voices behind the door, voices that didn't belong to Pitch nor the nightmares. They were discussing, it was obvious. And they were getting terribly closer to the room. Fear washed over him as a tidal wave, pushing away any feeling of fake calmness he had been trying to gather before. Ponos had left her deep marks on him, scars that wouldn't disappear anytime soon, and even if he knew she wouldn't dare to come back he couldn't ignore the feelings bubbling up his chest in a very painful way. The moment the door was pushed open, he pressed himself against the headboard with all his might, as if that would help him to blend into the wood and disappear. Alas it didn't happen as he wished and he found himself locked in a room with the Big Four. Pitch's worst enemies. The same spirits that didn't help him when the Boogeyman had gone missing, the same spirits that never cared about him for almost two hundred years. He closed his eyes tightly, praying for it to be another of Pitch's nightmares and he'd wake up soon from it.

As if Pitch would do something so cruel to him.

"-course the poor thing is scared!" A female voice chirped loudly, and he recognized it as being the Tooth Fairy. And she sounded just too close. He moved even further against the headboard, ignoring the pain starting to form on his side. "We told you to talk to him and instead you kidnap him!"

"Kiddo wouldn't listen. He's Pitch's all over."

The mention of his guardian worked as the perfect anger fuel. It ignited on his body in less than a second, pushing the fear and panic aside as he moved to stand up on the mattress, standing taller than any of them in that moment. They're lucky, a little voice on his head said softly and it was right. If he had his staff, he didn't doubt the blizzard roaring within his chest would be raging somewhere else. In that very room, to be more specific. Four pair of eyes focused on him, curiosity and fear and confusion shining on them at his sudden change of behaviour. Not that he cared.

"What did you do to him?" His voice didn't tremble as the rest of his body, fists clenched on his sides. He felt a soft layer of frost running up his fingers and wrists, a reaction of all the sudden distress imposed over him and he was honestly surprised to see he didn't freeze half of the room yet. Maybe it was the lack of his staff.

"We did noth'ng to dah ratbag, kit." Bunnymund. Of course. Green and blue eyes focused on each other, the anger and distrust colliding in the very moment. The Pooka wasn't happy to have him there, and Jack couldn't be more angry and irritated than he already was.

"Why am I here? I did nothing to you guys, so you can't keep me here."

"Ve can." North's booming voice echoed too loudly, too suddenly and the winter child didn't stop himself from stepping back, hands gripping the headboard behind his back not to fall over. "Ye're in danger, Jack. Ve only vant to keep ye safe 'til ve find Pitch."

"What are you even talking about?! Pitch is my friend, he's been taking care of me for years!"

"Dah scourge has no friends, kit. He's using ya."

"Shut up! I want to go home now!"

"Jack, listen to us. Please." Toothiana's voice was melodic and sweet, yet he just moved away as much as he could when she floated closer. A hint of pain glittered on her amethyst eyes yet she didn't get any closer than that, hands in the air as if she wanted to touch him but was refraining herself to do so. "This will be just for a few days, until we find out what's really going on. We can't let Pitch hurt you."

Fire burned on his eyes as her words sunk in, the frost on his fingers running down the wooden headboard until the very bed was nothing but a brilliant, elegant piece of ice. How did they think they were? He had begged for their help before, he had asked over and over again for their friendship only to be ignored and brushed off as a nuisance, and now... now they dared to tell him Pitch was the bad guy! The snowstorm kicked in, yet he couldn't let it do as it pleased. Not now when Pitch had just made him understand how his powers worked, how he could control them. So he pushed the fury aside, even if every inch of his body begged him to unleash it over those spirits. It'd just hurt him as much, and he'd avoid any pain in that moment. A deep breath was enough to clear his senses.

"Let me go home. Pitch will be worried if I don't arrive early."

"Told ya, Tooth. Pitch's all over. Sorry, kit. Ya'll be stayin' 'til we find someth'ng to break dah spell he put on ya."

He didn't make a sound as they left and locked the door behind them. The Wind roared outside to her winter child, trying to break into the sealed window - by magic, he supposed. They really had planned that all over, keeping him away from any means of escaping that silent, cold prison that they dared to call a room.

He fell on the frozen mattress, suddenly exhausted and weak once more, and as he drifted into a dreamless sleep, he just wished Pitch would come to rescue him as soon as possible.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	45. Storm

_**Hello dearies! Welcome to another end of an arc~ I'm not sure if I'll put this arc in the main timeline because there is a lot of things going on here but oh well, I'll think of something later. I hope you enjoy it, tho! It had been fun to write this one. Oh and thank you for all your lovely support. You guys are great!**_

 _ **nononono:** oh I'm sorry if I confused you! Officially this arc doesn't belong to the main timeline, but the whole collection doesn't have a proper timeline. I keep going back and forth between times. And Jack met Ponos twice~ I'll write about it soon!  
_ _ **PlaidOtaku:** I really hope you like the final chapter of the arc! and thanks for requesting it too, it's been fun to write it~ I know it's not exactly what you request and I'm sorry ;v;_

 _ **I've updated chapter 2 today! Go take a look at it, please~!**_

 _ **If you guys have any requests or ideas, let me know! And I'm still looking for a beta~ ;v;**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which the Guardians had made a terrible mistake.**_

* * *

 _ **45\. Storm**_

There was a storm coming soon, a terrible storm that would only bring destruction on its way and no one would be able to stop it. He couldn't understand how the others could be so blind, how they didn't feel it as he did. Every inch of his body hurt and burned in antecipation, and no matter what he said they never listened to him. They didn't believe in him, and it hurt more than the concealed winter slamming at his chest with full force, begging to be released. Why did no one ever listen to him? Why did they keep thinking Pitch had done something horrid to him, when in fact it was the _Guardians themselves_ that were inflicting him so much pain? It was unfair and stupid and-

A new wave of unbearable pain washed over his fragilized body and he rolled on the bed, clawing at his sides to maybe, trying to focus on something else than that cruel agony. He was a seasonal spirit, for heaven's sake! He needed to be out and spreading snow and blizzards wherever he was needed, not locked in a room as a grounded child. It was still the middle of winter, and even if he knew Mother Nature would do something on his place, it **hurt** to have so much contained power within himself and there was nothing he could do without his staff. He was as powerless as a snowflake lost in a snowstorm, and for a moment he wondered if Pitch had ever felt like that. So weak, fragile. Insignificant under all that power he wielded and tried to keep under control day after day for millennias. If so, Pitch Black was the bravest creature he had ever met. He couldn't even begin to imagine such terrifying, dreadful agony the Boogeyman had endured for all that time but he was sure he'd never have make it by himself.

And he could finally understand why Pitch hated and despised the Guardians of Childhood with all his darkened heart and soul.  
They _deserved_ it.

He didn't even notice the moment he started whimpering against the pillow, trying to seek comfort in the cold that now only served to hurt him more and more. He knew Pitch would come sooner or later, but as the days passed by and the pain only grew, he felt his hopes diminishing dangerously. What if Pitch had forgotten him? What if the dark spirit had found someone else to be his companion, someone that was stronger and less childish than Jack? Oh how _cruel_ it would be! They were a family, right? The Boogeyman had said it himself after Ponos' incident! They were a family and they'd always be together. So why, why hadn't he come yet?

Voices echoed outside the room, loud and angry and confused. The Pooka was the loudest, always saying terrible things about Pitch. Jack forced himself not to listen, curling up more on the bed to listen to his own ragged, wheezing breath. The pain was still there, throbbing and wriggling as an ugly infected wound that was slowly killing him. He knew he couldn't die, but sometimes he wished he could. Sometimes he wished Man in Moon had never taken him out of that lake, he wished he had never been taken away from Pitch's safe, fatherly embrace. He missed his _father_ , and he wondered if they'd ever met again. At that rate, the child doubted he'd last longer because the Guardians didn't understand winter couldn't be concealed, it wasn't a force that he could hold back for a long time. Not when summer wasn't even close to begin.

But he had completely forgotten Pitch Black rarely let go of some possession of his, and Jack liked it or not, he was the adopted child of a very angry, very obssessive Boogeyman.

The first wave had been subtle, almost noticiable but he had felt it striking him right on his heart, he felt it taking his breath and the pain away, leaving a void on his chest that quickly had been filled with something else. If it was hope, joy or simple and pure relief, he couldn't even say in that moment. The second wave came seconds later, swift and _merciless_ , the darkness covering the windows and doors, turning day into the darkest night he had ever seen in less than two seconds, shaking the very foundations of the magical wonderland that was the North Pole. He heard the Guardians yelling and cursing and moving away from his iced prison but Jack didn't pay them much attention, embracing himself for what was coming next because he knew _something_ was coming, because he knew Pitch perfectly well by now and that was **nothing** compared what the Boogeyman could and _would_ do.

And then it had started quietly, yet harsher and stronger beyond limits. He felt it running under and over his skin, consuming every happy feeling he had felt before, invading his very soul and center. It was fear, pure and raw fear, more powerful than anything else he had ever felt in his entire life, powerful enough to destroy that world thrice if its master desired to. It caressed his entire being before moving back, as if recognizing him, and soon the overwhelming horror had been gone. Then there were the voices echoing softly, the hushed whispers and mad taunts that had been so used to listen to back at home, screeching and yelling as loud as they could. Oh boy, Pitch wasn't angry. He wasn't even furious, if Jack dared to say.

Pitch Black was _completely berserk_ , and he could remember perfectly well the last time it had happened. Ponos surely wouldn't dare to show her ugly face for at least ten centuries or so. He could understand why Man in Moon had set _four_ Guardians against _one_ lonely spirit.

It wasn't unfair. It was **desperation**.  
And right now, he really doubted the Big Four would be enough to stop a King.

The winter child finally moved out of the bed, stepping into the darkness that had consumed the room entirely. The moment his bare feet touched the floor dark tendrils wrapped around his ankles and legs, welcoming him back, pulling him down as gently as something so dark and twisted could do. At least he didn't need his staff to use that little, old trick. He just closed his eyes and relaxed completely, allowing the darkness to cover his body entirely. And then he was falling into a silent world, slow and gracious as he'd ride the Wind but his travel didn't last long and it had slipped out of his mind that shadows didn't know how to make a soft landing. The next thing he knew he was faceplanting in the Globe Room, right in the middle of five powerful spirits ready to attack each other's neck. Not that he really cared or even _thought_ about the imminent danger.

His head snapped up quickly, blue eyes darting around the room that soon would become a battlefield until he finally spotted Pitch Black. The Boogeyman was twice taller than Jack could remember, his presence oppressive and frightening. How could the Guardians stand in front of him without retreating in fear was a mystery he wasn't interested in solve now.

"Papa?"

The word came out of his lips as a whisper, his voice full of pain and fear, a quiet plea for help that worked better than he had ever imagined. Golden eyes focused on him in the same second with such intensity that Jack feared Pitch's glance would be enough to make him melt, yet he had no time to comprehend what was going on around him. In a blink of an eye the darkness retreated and disappeared as if it had never been there at all, allowing the daylight to enter the Pole once more, and the winter child found himself being nestled against a very warm, very comfortable and strong chest. He could listen to Pitch's heart beating as fast as the wings of a humming bird, long arms keeping him safe and away from any other danger the Guardians could offer. Yet he could see the destruction the Boogeyman's wrath had caused. There were deep, ugly cracks on the walls. The floor was a mess of crushed stones and dust, and there was no toy in the entire Pole that had been preserved. The elves and yetis were nowhere to be seen, but he noticed small and big pools of blood here and there. His stomach turned and twisted and he looked away quickly, finally noticing the Guardians yelling again - but no one dared to step closer.

"This was just a warning." Pitch's voice echoed louder than any of them, yet soft and dangerously cold. "But heed my words, _Guardians_." He spat the title as something entirely despicable, as if he was talking about a very nauseating insect that had gotten stuck on his clothes. "The next time you dare to touch my child, I'll **burn** the heart out of each of you."

Jack Frost didn't doubt a single word that came out of the Boogeyman's lips.  
He only hoped the Guardians were smart enough not to doubt him as well.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	46. Deal

_**Hello my cuties! I'm deeply sorry for the late chapter and oh well, life is quite busy right now but I promise I'll try to focus on this story a bit more. Thank you for your wonderful support and I'm really glad so many people enjoyed the last chapter. I'll write a Pitch's version of that arc soon~ please enjoy this chapter!**_

 _ **If you guys have any requests, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Pitch makes a deal.**_

* * *

 _ **46\. Deal**_

Pitch Black had never enjoyed the quietness of those woods, for it had never been comfortable nor pleasant like the silence that filled his home. That silence was cold and unnerving, growing deeper and more terrible as he walked further into the woods. There was _nothing_ to hear at all. No animals running away from his presence, no birds chirpping over the trees. Even the wind seemed to have forsaken that place, for there was not a single leave moving, not a soft breeze of summer touching his face and it was more than unsettling. The only thing that he could hear was his own slow heartbeats and it was almost driving him crazy, yet he knew he shouldn't expect anything else from the dark spirit living in there.

And even so Pitch kept going on, moving deeper and deeper into the woods until the path he had taken was lost among the dead trees. It felt strangely _familiar_ to get too close to someone else's territory, the whole atmosphere of pure misery clinging at his own darkness as an old friend and it made him feel as powerful as before, in the glorious days of the Dark Ages. For a long moment he allowed himself to dwell on such overwhelming, dangerous feelings, to feed on the power that threatened to overcome his senses and turn him into a mindless beast that cared about anything else but himself and his desires.

But as much as the Fearlings within his soul cried out and begged for it, Pitch pushed the feelings away just as quickly as they had appeared. It hurt to deny his center, to force himself to be a 'good' person when he was just an old shadow of the man he used to be, it hurt as badly as the day the Fearlings consumed his body and soul yet he had make a **promise** he didn't intend to break. He promised Jack he would try. He'd get the answers they both needed, and he was willing to go as far as it took.

And soon the Nightmare King was stepping into a quiet, dark clearing that somehow made him feel at home. For a long moment he stood still, enjoying the familiar sensations until a soft voice echoed so close and so distant at the same time, pulling him away from his sturpor. Crimson eyes shone brightly behind all the darkness covering the woods, eyes that resembled countless stars moving restlessly if someone dared to look close enough, defying and mocking him. It made Pitch remember the reasons he _trusted_ and **despised** Phaethon so much. His bravery sometimes verged an insane kind of stupidity, just like Jack Frost, and even if he knew he couldn't be a match for the Boogeyman in such a weak form, they kept playing that dangerous game of power over and over again and they didn't care if anyone would get hurt in the end.

Unfortunately there was no time for games now.

"I wish to talk to you, Phaethon." Pitch Black said simply, forcing himself to step closer to the spirit of misfortune even if he knew he should be cautious, because he shouldn't ignore the danger that exhaled from every inch of Phaethon's destroyed body.

"I know what you wish, and it's not just a _talk_." The weaker spirit replied just as softly, his eyes glittering in pure, barely contained desire. He had missed that, it was more than obvious, and Pitch could understand it very well. The never-ending **hunger** that only grew more and more. Always needing, never satisfied. "You want to know about Jack Frost, why he's so special. Now tell me, _why_ should I say anything to you?"

"Because I'm the one that made you fall. I can put you back there just as easily." There was no threat on his voice, no lies covered in fake sweetness. It was just the truth, simple and cruel but the truth nonetheless and they both knew it. Phaethon stood still for long seconds, as if contemplating what Pitch had just said, trying to decide if he should take that as an insult or an option. And when he finally sighed, his eyes showing nothing but a mild curiosity, the Boogeyman knew he had won. "What's your price, Phaethon?"

"You know this is a deal you cannot break, no matter what you do."

He knew it _perfectly well_ , perhaps more than anyone else in that dirty planet. He didn't even hesitate in nodding a bit too quickly for his own sake, yet Phaethon didn't seem to care about it. The spirit of misfortune hummed happily, his whole being relaxing more as if they had simply started a new game he knew he'd win sooner or later.

"Very well." Phaethon finally said, his voice resembling a soft purr that sent unpleasant shivers down Pitch's spine. "Ask me anything you want to know about the child and I shall answer it truthfully. However, for each of **your** question _he_ will spend a day with me. Hush, you-" He kept talking before Pitch could even think about snapping at the fallen spirit. "You have my word no harm will come to him."

"You're asking for too much."

"So are _you_ , Kozmotis. Do we have a deal?"

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading! See ya~**_


	47. Emily-Jane

_**Hello again! A short, very confusing chapter (and I'll edit it later) because I'm at work and I wanted to make up for my disappearance. I'm just planning something big for you guys and I really really hope you'll like it. It'll be something out of our current timeline but oh well *shrugs* thank you all for your support, though! It means a lot to me! And OMG almost 150 reviews! This is just crazy, I've never thought some story of mine would reach so many lovely reviews! You guys always make my day!**_

 _ **PlaidOtaku: oh well no one ever said they never had something before hehe~ just kidding (maybe)**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 ** _Summary: In which Mother Nature gives Jack a name._**

* * *

 _ **47\. Emily-Jane**_

The first weeks of Winter were always the most wonderful ones of the whole season. It felt **great** to finally leave home after weeks being forced to hide away from Aurion and his annoying sprites. It was great to spread snowstorms and blizzards whenever he was needed, to play with the children even if they couldn't see him. It was just the funniest thing to play tricks on adults all over the world and watch their reactions. More than that, it meant Jack Frost would be busy for at least a whole month and he had the perfect excuse not to go home for a long time. It meant he'd have enough time to look out for that special person without having Pitch Black prying on whatever he was planning now. Not that Jack really minded it, because after Ponos' incident he couldn't blame the Boogeyman for trying to be around as much as he could and sometimes it was still hard to go out all alone. A shudder ran down his body and the Wind ruffled his hair in response, sending the terrifying thoughts away in the very moment they tried to invade his mind.

The cold air that didn't belong to him lifted his mood in a matter of seconds, and he motioned the Wind to go faster before _she_ got out of reach. Playing tag with Mother Nature herself wasn't one of his best ideas, because she was one of the most powerful beings in that world and no one should be **playing** with her. Yet she had never said something about it nor forbid him from doing such a childish thing, and sometimes it was pretty obvious she was _enjoying_ their little game. If she allowed him to play with her because she felt guilty for leaving him alone for a hundred years or if it was because of something else, he never knew nor cared. In that moment he was more worried about finding her.

Now that he knew **who** she really was, things were even more special than before.

A soft, elegant giggle echoed just too close and he just noticed where he was the moment he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. He turned slowly, his breath painfully stuck on his throat as she came into sight. No matter how many times they met, Mother Nature would always be an astouding vision, her overwhelming presence taking his breath away too easily. She was as tall and thin as Pitch Black himself, her features fragile and gracious in some way that couldn't be replicated, and although her whole being claimed respect and obedience, her smile was sweet and caring, and Jack relaxed softly under her touch. For a long moment he just looked at her, trying to understand _how_ he had **never** noticed how much she resembled the Boogeyman. Maybe it was some kind of magic, because there was no other way no one wouldn't see it.

"Hello, Jack." Her voice was melodic and gentle, her smile widening softly at his timidity. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just... wanted to ask you something." Jack replied, looking up at her in expectation. When she nodded, he swallowed back the lump and hesitation on his throat. "What's your name?"

The shock on her face was one of those things he had never expected to see on his life. She understood what he _meant_ , yet it seemed that no one else had ever asked her about it with the same intentions. And then the shock was gone and Mother Nature smiled, brighter and happier than any other smile he had seen on her lips. It was just beautiful and stunning, and Jack felt himself losing his breath again but it didn't last long, for she made a quick curtesy and reached out her hand.

"Emily-Jane Pitchiner." She finally said. Realization hit the winter child in the next second and he smiled back, holding her fingers as gently as he could and placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. "You're a wonder, Jack. Could you do me a favor?" She hesitated for no more than a second and smiled again. "Can you tell him I miss him too?"

"O-of course."

"Thank you."

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	48. Meeting

_**Hello dearies! Omg I'm just so happy you guys are amazing! 19k hits and almost 160 reviews! I couldn't possibly thank you all enough, I swear. Thank you so so much for all your support. And again I'm sorry for this crappy chapter but my mind is focused on something else entirely different and you guys asked for more Emily-Jane so oh well. I'll probably edit it later, along with almost 40 chapters *cries* ANYWAY, I'm preparing something big and I need your help guys~ Next chapter will decide what happens on chapter 50 (oh joys!) so I'll be posting chapter 49 tonight as well. For now, please forgive me for this chapter and I'm trying to make up for it ;v;**_

 _ **Randomly Talented:** I know right (TT_TT) thank you!  
_ _ **PlaidOtaku:** Don't you dare tease ME, I can write a special chapter about them just for you XD and I'm sorry the request didn't end up as you asked but ugh my mind decided not to work anymore sorry ;v; I promise I'll write something really good soon! And thank you for all your support, it makes my day everytime!  
_ _ **Elizabeth-chan mangalover:** Yep, more Emily/Jack siblings chapters coming soon~ and dinner with papa Pitch isn't a bad idea c:  
_ _ **FrostedDragonHeart:** Thank you!~  
_ _ **RiseoftheSoulGuardians:** Thanks! The chapters are in disorder because well, they really don't have a proper timeline. ;v;  
_ _ **Child:** Well you just come and read chapter 48 hehe~ thanks!_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Emily-Jane pays the Guardians a visit.**_

* * *

 _ **48\. Meeting**_

When the colorful lights invaded the dark sky all of sudden, Jack knew something was really _wrong_ in the Pole and for a brief moment he wondered what could be going on. It couldn't be about Pitch, for no matter what the Boogeyman was planning he'd always tell Jack first. He really doubted Phaethon would still be mad at him, and he couldn't think of any other spirit that was insane enough to mess with the Guardians. Unfortunately the Wind didn't give him enough time to figure out by himself what was happening, and in the next second she was already pushing him through the skies as fast as she could. It took them no more than an hour to reach the Pole, and the commotion inside the Globe Room only sent more waves of curiosity down his body. The others were already there, of course. How could he expect not to be late to anything related to the Guardians? However there was someone else in there, an overwhelming presence that he'd recognize anywhere even if he didn't want to. Mother Nature was **standing** in the middle of the room, beautiful and fierce as always, yelling loud enough for him to hear her angered words outside the window, with such an expression that left no space for retorts or commentaries. Oh dear, she was _mad_. That wasn't good at all.

He moved slowly into the room, trying not to get her attention while she seemed so angry. Alas no matter how many times he tried to cheat on her, she _always_ knew when he was around her. Thinking about it, perhaps it was easier to trick Father Time than escape Mother Nature herself. Before he could notice it, her arms got wrapped around his body, pushing him close enough to her so she could brush down his hair harshly. Right, that motherly thing he just hated so much and she never stopped doing no matter what he said. She just needed to learn he liked his hair that way, thank you very much.

"What do I need to do to make you presentable for _once_ in your life?" She said to no one in particular, ignoring Jack's groans and four shocked Guardians staring at them as if they had just landed there from another planet. Well it wasn't entirely a lie. "Have you ever heard about a magical item called **hairbrush**?"

"It contais _dark magic_ , and I'm not interested. Stop it, Emily!" The winter child finally managed to escape her arms and moved away quickly, hiding behind the couch before she could get any closer again. Emily simply giggled, her anger from before completely disspated by now. That was a strange creature that he'd never understand, no matter how much time they'd spend together. "My hair is just fine, and I'm pretty sure you didn't come all this way to yell at them because of me."

"You're right, of course." She smiled almost gently, taking a whole minute to stare at the other Guardians in silence, and they didn't dare to say a word in that moment as well. There was something on her eyes, something dangerous as a storm. It was more than obvious she wanted to say much more to them, yet she pressed her lips together and then exhaled deeply, swallowing back all the fury and anger from before, approaching Jack enough to pat his hair. "You keep saying I need to... _relax more_ , so why don't you show me around? It'll be fun."

"Sure. Come on, sis."

Jack's smile widened as he grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the Globe Room before someone could say something else, before the Guardians snapped out of their shock and started making weird questions because he knew them very well by now and he wouldn't escape it even if he wanted so. But now all that mattered was spending time with Emily, and even if he wished they could do it more often he knew she had countless things to watch over around the world. He understood it, yet it seemed to be the hardest task on Earth to make _her_ understand it as well. Well at least they had a few hours to try it again.

"Hey Em." He called softly when they stepped into the workshop, her eyes shining in pure wonder as she looked around at all the toys and magic working on that place. It took him a few more tries to finally get her attention, and when he did her smile was just brighter than ever. "Why were you so angry before? And why aren't you mad at me now?"

"It's the middle of summer. You were supposed to be hibernating and not here, eavesdropping." Emily grimaced and pinched his nose playfully, making him giggle. "They did something wrong and they needed a lesson, that's all. And by their faces, you never told them about _us_."

"You're Mother Nature, I'm a winter spirit. That's all they need to know." There was a moment of deep, uncomfortable silence between them before Emily smiled again, brushing the hair out of his face as gently as she could, yet something on her eyes was telling him exactly what she was thinking. "What?"

"Nothing. Just wondering how no one had ever noticed _you_ 're Pitch's child through and through."

"Because I'm not."

"Of course, dearie."

* * *

 ** _Thank you for reading!  
_** ** _See ya~_**

 _Little headcanon: Pitch always calls Emily as Emily-Jane, no matter the situation._


	49. Author's Note: Important

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE_**

Hello my darlings! I know this isn't a chapter and I know I've promised to post a special one this week but the thing is: I'm completely _disappointed_ with the previous chapters on this story and I NEED to update them before I move on, or I'll go crazy with all the missing things. I need to fix the timeline (and maybe create some new ones, I don't know yet) and focus more on Jack/Pitch relationship, so for the next days I'll be only rewriting and updating all the chapters that haven't been updated yet.

And again, thank you very much for all your love and support. I've never thought this story would get so many reviews, follows & favorites when I first started writing it and I couldn't be more happy to have you guys around. It means a lot to me, and that's why I'm going to update this story into something better because YOU deserve to read something a lot better than I've been posting. I hope you understand it. I promise I'll try not to take too long to post a new chapter but until then I hope you can have a little patience with me ;v;

Thank you so much.  
 _LunnyBunny~_

* * *

 **Current timeline (it'll be updated later but oh well, I know you're curious):**

 _ **1712:** Hopeless (chapter 11)  
_ _ **1812:** Abandoned (chapter 1)  
_ _ **1812:** Dangerous (chapter 23)  
_ _ **1812:** Hated (chapter 33)  
_ _ **1813:** Anxious (chapter 14)  
_ _ **1813:** Amazed (chapter 15)  
_ _ **1815:** Comfortable (chapter 2)  
_ _ **1817:** Remembering (chapter 20)  
_ _ **1818:** Curious (chapter 5)  
_ _ **1820:** Fascinated (chapter 12)  
_ _ **1820:** Embarrassed (chapter 35)  
_ _ **1823:** Fly (chapter 32)  
_ _ **1828:** Giants (chapter 42)  
_ _ **1836:** Rain (chapter 37)  
_ _ **1840:** Alone (chapter 6)  
_ _ **1850:** Devastated (chapter 7)  
_ _ **1853:** Old (chapter 22)  
_ _ **1861:** Compassion (chapter 38)  
_ _ **1862:** Misfortune (chapter 39)  
_ _ **1869:** Deal (chapter 46)  
_ _ **1872:** Dreams (chapter 36)  
_ _ **1875:** Confused (chapter 21)  
_ _ **1876:** Protection (chapter 43)  
_ _ **1876:** Prison (chapter 44)  
_ _ **1876:** Storm (chapter 45)  
_ _ **1881:** Bedtime (chapter 40)  
_ _ **1894:** Delighted (chapter 26)  
_ _ **1895:** Nightshade (chapter 41)  
_ _ **1912:** Stubborn (chapter 29)  
_ _ **1913:** Emily-Jane (chapter 47)  
_ _ **1968:** Afraid (chapter 3)  
_ _ **1973:** Bored (chapter 4)  
_ _ **2012:** Furious (chapter 8)  
_ _ **2012:** Panicky (chapter 9)  
_ _ **2012:** Determined (chapter 10)  
_ _ **2012:** Resentful (chapter 13)  
_ _ **2012:** Hungry (chapter 19)  
_ _ **2013:** Exhausted (chapter 16)  
_ _ **2013:** Content (chapter 17)  
_ _ **2013:** Joyful (chapter 18)  
_ _ **2013:** Hurt (chapter 24)  
_ _ **2014:** Horrified (chapter 25)  
_ _ **2014:** Worried (chapter 27)  
_ _ **2014:** Broken (chapter 28)  
_ _ **2014:** Frustrated (chapter 30)  
_ _ **2014:** Concerned (chapter 31)  
_ _ **2014:** Forgive (chapter 34)  
_ _ **2015:** Meeting (chapter 48)_


	50. Nothing

_**Hello! I'M BACK! I know I said I'd be updating every chapter before I posted something again but I couldn't stay away for so long, and this idea had been bothering me so much that I couldn't concentrate on anything else. Buuuut I've updated chapters 3, 4 and 5 so go take a look on them when you have the chance. They're a lot better now than they were before.**_ _ **And THANK YOU so much for your lovely support. I really didn't expect it. You guys mean a lot to me, and wow I'm just so happy. Thank you for your reviews, for your support and ideas and... well thanks for everything! You guys are AMAZING!**_

 _ **Aaaaaand before you go into the chapter, a little warning. This is a special chapter that was meant to be the last one on this story but oh well, I'm such a weirdo that loves different timelines and I apologize for it. So I've made some modifications here and there and if you don't understand it, it's okay. Officially, from now on, this story has 3 different timelines that will be explained better soon.**_

 _ **The timelines are simple:**_

 _Guardians (Jack is a Guardian & Pitch's ward - main timeline)  
Lightbringer (Jack didn't join the Guardians due his kidnapping & imprisonment on 1876)  
Welcome Home (this one will be explained later because of reasons~)_

 _ **If you guys don't like the idea please let me know and I'll work on something better! For now I hope you forgive me ;v;**_ _ **I'll keep posting new chapters & updating old ones at the same time so I'll see you soon! **__**New ideas, requests and constructive**_ ** _criticisms are always welcome!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 _ **50\. Nothing (2012)  
** Welcome Home_

It was strangely curious how life could take different turns along the way, and he hadn't even tried to understand how they had ended up there, in such a gruesome situation on their hands. The last few days were nothing but a blur of messy images and feelings, a reunion of _absurd_ events that he still wondered if they had really happened because truth to be told, **who** in their right mind would ask Jack Frost for any help? Jack Frost helped no one. He was a mistake, a good for nothing troublemaker that could do nothing right. But _they_ did seek him, they wanted **his** help. The Big Four, the spirits he once cherised and then despised so much for their lack of attention, for their blind ignorance towards the winter child, wanted _him_ to join **them**. They had kidnapped him and told him he had been chosen to be a Guardian. He had helped Tooth to collect teeth and even helped Bunny to prepare Easter. They had fought Pitch Black together, and they had succeeded.

So why did victory feel so _bitter_?

Maybe it was those few years of a twisted, yet wonderful friendship they had shared before everything crumbled at their feet, because no matter what Pitch had done Jack would never forget they had been good friends that cared for each other once, they had been some kind of family for a little while and good gods how much _he missed it_. Maybe it was the panic written over every line of the Boogeyman's expression, because _the master of fear himself_ was _scared_. Maybe it was because Jack had seen his own reflection on those golden eyes, because he had felt that powerful fear gripping at his heart over and over again for the last three hundred years. The fear of being forgotten, abandoned and completely _alone_. The desperation of being left behind, brushed off as unimportant, unnecessary. A nuisance that should've **never** existed. And even if Pitch Black was the enemy now, even if his mad obssession for revenge had cost him _so much_ , Jack could understand his reasons. He knew how much it hurt not to be believed in, how it burned their very souls. What Bunnymund had felt on Easter was nothing but a drop in the ocean, a glimpse of the real agony that Jack desired no one to ever feel.

They wanted to be seen. They wanted to be more than a long forgotten dream, more than a cold breeze of winter. And he also knew that three hundred years had been **nothing** in comparison of _thousands_ years of a lonely, sad existence filled with nothing but darkness and fear and corrupted power.

Yes, Pitch Black was _their_ enemy but had they even _tried_ to understand him?  
For the way the Guardians were smiling at the Boogeyman's cruel demise, it was obvious they hadn't even **thought** about it.

His body moved before his mind could really comprehend the urgency of the situation, the wave of compassion and nearness that washed over him as an avalanche forcing him to run. Pitch's helpless screams and the violent neighs of his Nightmares rushed the winter child into action because _I have to help him I have to stop it!_ and he didn't even think about what he was doing, **why** he was doing that. He didn't think about Jamie or the Guardians. He didn't think about the bright and happy future he was simply throwing away because if he did, he'd hesitate and change his mind. Pitch hadn't enough time for hesitation, for his childish cowardice. The Guardians' yells never reached his ears as he moved faster, completely focused on the dark spirit being dragged away by his own creations. The moment Pitch gripped at the rotten wood of the bed over the dark entrance, screeching and thrasing against his captors like a damned Banshee, the Wind gave Jack a last push before it was _too late_. Cold fingers grabbed a grey pulse, golden and blue eyes meeting for a long, painful second.

Pitch Black wasn't simply **scared**.  
He was _terrified_ , hurt, confused. He was lost and broken, much like Jack Frost had once been in a long time ago.

Another scream rose from the man's lips as the creatures gave his body a new tug, pulling him deeper and deeper into the hole, and Jack felt a cruel stab right on his heart. The dark creatures weren't just trying to take Pitch away. They were trying to _tear him apart_ and he couldn't stop it. The winter child tightened his grip but he knew it was of no use. He wasn't stronger than a well-fed bunch of Nightmares, yet he wouldn't give up now. The mere thought of being locked away in the dark with no one else but those disgusting, vengeful things was more than enough to make him stand firm on his suicidal plan. No one deserved such punishment, no one deserved to be hurt over and over again only because they wished to exist. Not even the Nightmare King himself, not even after what he did.

As Pitch screamed again, Jack did the only thing that he could've done in that moment.  
He allowed the Nightmares to drag him down the hole, and darkness surrounded him completely.

He never knew how long it took them to stop falling, and maybe they were falling just too slow because last time he had been there, Pitch's lair wasn't so distant from the surface like now. There were noises all around him, above his head and coming from the shadows by his sides. His grip on Pitch's pulse never faltered, the constant warmth of the Boogeyman against his frozen skin sending calming waves through his body. And then, just as suddenly as they had been dragged down, they fell on the harsh ground. The darkness in there was simply _overwhelming_ , ten times worse than the last time, and it seemed to cover every inch of wall and floor, to glue on the corners and little spaces like a sickening goo. Not even the Globe of Belief was shining anymore, its dim lights longing for only a second before going out at once. By his side, Pitch wasn't moving at all and for a moment Jack feared he had done something wrong, he had been too late... But the Boogeyman coughed and sputtered, his breath hoarse and filled with pain but _he was breathing_ nonetheless. At least he was alive.

The winter child finally found enough strength to move, fingers curling over his staff. A blue, cold light emanating from his conduit filled a small part of the room as he pushed himself over his knees, pain numbing his senses almost completely. There wasn't an inch of his body that didn't hurt, yet his mind was miles away from that, more focused on _what_ had brought him there and **when** they'd attack again. The creatures were nowhere to be seen, yet he knew it'd be just a matter of time until they came back or he finally registered how insane he was. Unfortunately he had no time to start thinking about what he had done, for Pitch choked loudly, gurgling and sputtering more, gaining his complete attention in a matter of instants. Jack just approached quickly, barely registering the countless wounds and bites and bruises over the Boogeyman's body but he didn't fail to notice the blood pooling around him and escaping his mouth, dark and sticky and just _too cold_.

Panic and fear numbed Jack's mind once more before he could even realize it. Someone was dying in front of him, and it didn't matter if the person was his 'enemy' or his closest friend. Someone was just _dying in front of his eyes_ and it was **his** fault. He had helped the Guardians. He had pushed Pitch away in his weakest moment instead of listening. He could've tried to change the man's mind again, like he had tried so many years ago. He could've tried to _**talk to him**_. There were countless things he could've done, and now he was stuck down there with wild, unleashed Nightmares and a dying, fallen King.

And just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, a neigh echoed _too close_ to them, loud and vicious. Ten pair of golden eyes popped out of the darkness, full of malice and hunger and a mad desire to _hunt, chase, kill_. Without Pitch's influence over them, they were no more than darkness and horror mixed and barely contained in a sandy body, ready to feed on that fear no matter what, ready to destroy anything standing on their way. The leader moved first, whinning as it tapped its feet against the floor violently, but when it got _too close_ Jack's body reacted to the danger before his mind could follow. He felt himself standing up quickly and slamming the end of his staff on the floor with all his might. He felt the powerful waves of energy running through his veins, just like when Sandman had been killed, as violent and dangerous as the dark creatures threatening him, draining his strength and destroying every Nightmare on the way until there was nothing but the thick, pure darkness around him, a familiar darkness that seemed to sing to him, peacefully lulling him into its arms.

Without any resistance, Jack allowed himself to be consumed by the dark again.

* * *

The first thing he noticed when he finally woke up was the throbbing pain on his head, pulsing against his temple over and over again until he was completely awake and aware of it, his mind dizzy and foggy. It was darker than before, and for a second he wondered if Pitch's lair had ever been so dark. He couldn't remember, yet he knew something was wrong because darkness in there had never felt so dangerous, so gruesome. Why was he in there again? They had fought, they were enemies... Something was missing, and he couldn't remember what. For how long had he been unconscious? It couldn't be for so long because he was still feeling the effects of such a powerful outburst. Oh yes, the Nightmares had tried to attack him and he had sent them away. Well at least he was safe for now. No, it wasn't quite right. He hadn't fall into that place alone... His eyes moved to the side, barely recognizing Pitch's decrepit form through the darkness.

Pitch. The Guardians, Sandman, Easter, the Nightmares... And then the memories of his downfall invaded his mind as an avalanche, not asking for permission to fill him with images and feelings and _pain_. Pure, raw pain that twisted and broke him from the inside, eating his limbs and his skin. There wasn't an inch of his body that wasn't aching or burning and even his voice seemed to abandon him, for it didn't matter how much he tried to scream he could simply wheeze and whimper. Instincts worked better than any other thing inside him, and before he could notice his fingers brushed the ground by his side, gripping the staff with little strength left in his hand. The moment frost covered the ancient wood the pain subdued slowly until it was no more than a slight, angry throbbing in his chest yet he didn't move. For a long time he didn't care to count Jack stood still, waiting. What was he waiting for? He didn't exactly know but something told him to wait. His heavy, hoarse breathing finally calmed down. His heart decided to follow.

 _Silence_.

He didn't like that silence. It was wrong, unwelcoming. It was that kind of silence that made him want to flee, to hide because there was something dangerous behind it. Unfortunately he had nowhere to hide, not in there. Not in _their_ kingdom. The Nightmares were still to show up, and maybe they were just waiting for the perfect moment to strike again, to end his miserable life at once because he had been stupid enough to fall in there and become an easy prey. Could a **spirit** die again? Pitch had said something about it once... Well he surely didn't want to remember in that very moment. He moved to lay on his side, embracing the staff against his chest as much as possible as a scared child would do with a favorite blanket. He _was_ scared of many things now, and all he had to keep him calm was his staff. He needed to focus and find a way out of that place, to find a way to return to the Guardians and Jamie and...

They would **never** accept him back after what he had done.

He tried to save Pitch Black, the same spirit how tried to destroy the world with his Nightmares and fear. He had chosen the _enemy_ over his future, the possibility of a new family...

 _You'll never have a family._ Phaethon's voice echoed too loud in his mind that for a second he almost believed the spirit of misfortune was there by his side, whispering on his ear the same words he wished never to listen again in his life. He wanted to deny that with every fiber of his body, yet deep inside he knew he shouldn't because that was the truth. He didn't _deserve_ to have a family. If the **Boogeyman** didn't want him before, who would ever want? Surely it wouldn't be a group of weird guys who ignored him for three hundred years. It wouldn't be the same Guardians that doubted him and sent him away on Easter. And even if his childish mind _begged_ to believe they'd come to help him and take him back to the North Pole, Jack knew better than that. Those three days were no more than a dream - a _wonderful_ , incredible dream that he had been force to wake up and face reality too soon.

 _They won't come to save you.  
_ **No one mourns the wicked.**

And he swallowed back the tears and sobs that threatened to escape him the moment a soft moan echoed around, shattering the silence in a million pieces as if it had never existed at all. Pitch... _Pitch was alive!_ Relief washed over him in a second and he pushed himself closer to the dark spirit, trying not to pay attention to all those wounds covering Pitch's body. In that moment all that really mattered was the fact the Boogeyman was alive and breathing and well, Jack wasn't alone in the dark anymore. Another moan brought his mind back into the harsh reality and he finally forced himself to _look_ at Pitch. There was blood _everywhere_ , clinging at the Nightmare King's clothes as the shadows once did. His body was a mess of bites and bruises, and his right leg had been twisted and broken in at least three different points. Jack was almost sure it would **never** heal completely, no matter how strong Pitch could be.

And Pitch Black was anything _but strong_ now. He was no more than a shadow of the King he used to be, and it was all Jack's fault. He had fought Pitch instead of listening. He had ran away when he should've stayed and now they were stuck down there forever, if they were lucky enough to survive.

As if things in his life couldn't get any worse.

* * *

It took him only a few days to notice how darker, how distorted that place had become through the years. The darkness in there wasn't just the lack of light. It was something _real_ and dangerous lurking in every corner, ready to swallow him whole at any moment if he got too close. The Nightmares had grown into terrifying creatures, and the Fearlings were more than simple little creatures running wild and spreading fear. They were _much more_ , and Jack finally understood how Pitch had never escaped their influence over his soul and heart. It was... impossible, **painful** even. The Fearlings were cruel, merciless, monstrous like big pieces of the purest darkness and deepest fears combined into something beyond imagination, wicked creatures that stole his breath and feeded on his sanity slowly. The whole place was _drowning_ in madness and corruption, and it was a surprise to find out he was still sane enough to keep fighting for a way out. It'd be so easy to just give up and surrender, to let himself be taken to that dark world... To be like Pitch Black.

And the facility of becoming **something** worse than Jokul Frosti scared him to death because sometimes he _wanted_ to.

Sometimes he wanted it much more than he wanted freedom and it was absolutely terrifying.

"Hush child... it's okay."

Oh right. He was hyperventilating again, and he hadn't even noticed it until now. Warm fingers brushed over his hair before moving to massage his temples gently, and that mere touch had been enough to push the horror out of his mind, clearing his senses in no more than a second. Why it always worked on him was something Jack couldn't explain, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to understand it himself. All that mattered was how much he loved and needed that sweet, wonderful kind of comfort that only Pitch could offer him. And maybe, just maybe that was the only thing that was preventing him to go insane at once, because there was no other explanation for that, and he couldn't be more grateful even if he knew he didn't _deserve_ such a gentle treatment. It was his fault they were locked up in that place and Jack couldn't simply understand why Pitch was being so... nice to him. He couldn't understand why the Boogeyman hadn't killed him yet.

Well it seemed Jack couldn't understand a lot of things in that ruined, twisted wonderland.

"I need you to do something, Jack." Pitch was talking again, and the winter child once more forced himself to focus on whatever the dark spirit was saying, the warm touch now spreading down his arm being more than enough to keep him wary. "We might... have a way to get out of here. I cannot promise but..."

A way out. Pitch had finally found a way out of that hell.  
That was all he needed to hear in that moment.

" _Listen_ to me."

Jack blinked softly, confusion washing over his hastiness as a bucket of cold water. _When_ had he exactly stand up, and _why_ hadn't he noticed it? The answer was simple and plain, even if he wanted to deny that. He was just getting worse, and fast. **Too fast**. Fear bubbled inside his chest, its poisonous roots invading his heart and settling in there before he had enough time to ignore them. It shouldn't be like that. Everything was just so wrong, so painful and he needed to get away soon. He was _wasting away_ slowly, and he didn't want to die in that place. And then a sudden pain spread through his face, burning and shoving away every inch of panic and horror trying to creep up his soul. The harsh slap resonated down his entire body, the shock forcing him to remember how to breath again. It felt exactly like waking up from a terrible nightmares, and well it was always a wonder to see how stronger Pitch was getting day after day.

"Focus, child. I can't lose you now."

"I-I'm sorry..." The winter spirit muttered, cupping the hurt cheek as gently as he could. The cold against his heated skin served better than any caring touch, and it took him only a moment to pull himself together at once. They had a chance now and he wouldn't lose it, no matter how scared he really was. He owed that and much more to Pitch after everything he had done. For a long minute all he did was stare at the still fragilized Boogeyman, wondering when his eyes had lost their golden touch. Maybe after their fall... Not that it was really important. "What do I need to do?"

"That's my boy." Pitch smiled, for the first time in a long time, and Jack simply relaxed, sitting back on the bed as quickly as he had gotten up before. "There's something hidden in the library, a black box that's very important and very fragile. You'll find it inside my armor, behind the chest socket. I need you to get it for me. You can _not_ fail this, Jack."

"I can do it. But why is it so important?"

"Because that's where I keep my heart."

* * *

Jack sighed for the hundredth time in the last hour, wondering **why** he still believed in Pitch Black after everything they've been through in the last decades. Oh well, at least it was great to know he wasn't the only one going insane on that place. Pitch had always been mad as a hatter, that was for sure, but what he was proposing now crossed the limits of _insanity_ thrice. Unfortunately the Boogeyman seemed to disagree with him, and all the winter child could do for now was wait and hope he wouldn't lose his mind at once during the process, because it'd be really difficult to accept what they were about to do. He could deal with being a winter spirit. He could deal with Fearlings and sand monsters and with the Boogeyman himself. But **that kind of magic**... he couldn't just accept it really existed because if it did... it meant he had failed his promises again. How could he be so useless, so... meaningless in that world? His eyes fell upon the boiling potion in the cauldron and for a long moment the child simply stared at it, not sure what he should feel about that.

"So... will it really work?"

"Of course it will. Magic never fails, snowflake." Pitch replied, not even bothering to look up from the piece of paper on his hands. A very old spell, he had said. It didn't look old to Jack, but he guessed he should just trust Pitch on that one. As if that wasn't another signal of his imminent madness. _Trusting_ the same spirit that tried to destroy the world and everything good on it surely wasn't a good idea. "And you can say we're lucky. I've saved some of the ingredients for a rainy day."

"Well, it's storming like a bitch." And the Nightmare King _laughed_ all of sudden. It wasn't that cruel laughter he had been used to hear. It was a soft, unfamiliar sound that made something warm move inside Jack, something that really felt good and right in that place where everything was wrong all the time. "What's so funny?"

"I missed it. You, your sense of humor..."

"Can't say I believe it, since you're the one that kicked me out for no reason." Jack spatted harsher than he had expected, yet he noticed Pitch's eyes widening softly in surprise and pain, as if he had just touched an infected wound, and whatever else he was going to say was lost in the very moment their eyes finally met. The strange light shining on the Boogeyman's silver orbs were always so easy to read, just like an open book he had memorized, even if he had spent a good part of his life trying to forget it. "Why, Pitch? We... we were happy. We could've been a family..."

"I made a mistake." The older spirit said softly, his voice suddenly too tired. It lacked the constant proud and sweet lies that always had adorned it, and in that moment Pitch sounded like the man he was no more, exhausted hurt from a battle he wouldn't survive. "I thought I could have everything. My powers, my revenge... you. But you were right. No one can have everything, and now that I have my heart inside me again I see... That life we shared would've been enough. You... _you_ would've been enough."

For a long, painful minute all Jack heard was his own heart beating too fast against his ribcage, all he felt were the tears trying to run down his cheeks and getting frozen in the middle of their way. He wanted every word he heard to be the truth, yet some part of him, some little part that still had too much power over him, yelled against that. He shouldn't trust Pitch, not now and not ever again. In the end he'd just get hurt and left behind, and it scared him more than the Fearlings and Nightmares, more than his wavering sanity. And once more in the same night he felt warm fingers on his face, wiping away the tears and sending waves full of hope down his body. He felt a gentle kiss against his forehead, and in that moment he decided to forget about everything else. The sadness, the loneliness, the despair... for once it mattered nothing at all. For a second he dared to believe things would get better sooner than later. The winter child took a step back only to stare up at Pitch's silver eyes. There were no lies, no evil plans shining in them, only affection and love, and Jack dared to believe a bit more in him.

The spell _would work_.  
They would do it. They'd be a family.

"Well..." His fingers caressed the old, broken staff resting by his side for one last time before his eyes focused on the strange smoke escaping the cauldron. The spell was finally ready, and there was no going back from that point. Jack moved closer to Pitch, leaning against the spirit's side as gently as he could, allowing himself to enjoy the feeling of safety that he only felt when he was around the Boogeyman. "See you on this new place. Will you find me?"

"Of course I will. I promise."

The sincerity on those words... Jack couldn't have asked for more in that moment.  
The last thing he felt was Pitch's arms embracing him tight before darkness engulfed them both completely.

Then, there was nothing.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!  
**_ _ **See ya soon!**_


	51. Gone

_**Ahoy! TERRIBLE CHAPTER AHEAD, be careful! Hello my dearies~! I'm really sorry for being so late but well things are kinda complicated around here aaaand I got a writer's block that won't leave me alone. Please forgive me for this chapter and I promise I'll write something good enough soon. But I liked the drama so yeah have some Tooth for now *shrugs* OMG so many lovely reviews I wish I could hug each one of you guys, you're just too wonderful for this world and I mean it. Thank you so much for your reviews and follows &favorites!**_

 _ **FrostDragonHeart:** I'm glad you enjoyed the idea and the chapter~ and don't worry, all the chapters will be placed on its proper timeline as soon as I update them!~ **  
PlaidOtaku:** Haha I promise I'll make things clear soon! For now you're right about the timeline, and I'm not sorry about the cliffhanger~  
 **Ravenna Frost:** Thank you so so much you just made my day you beautiful person ;v;_

 _ **If you have any request, let me know! (No, really. I'm lacking ideas right now so give me anything if you want! Let me know about your headcanons, I know you guys have it! ;v;)**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: Just a bit of drama. Nothing big, really. Love you guys.**_

* * *

 **51\. Gone (2025)  
** _Welcome Home_

"Anna! Come on, wait!"

For a second that seemed to last for an entire minute, the Tooth Fairy felt her heart stop beating as a rushed wave of panic and relief rippled through her body. She _knew_ that loud voice, that sweet laughter filled with nothing but the purest joy one could muster. Oh how she had believed she'd **never** hear that again, and how much it hurt to see they had been wrong, so wrong about everything. They had failed a child. The Guardians of Childhood had failed _their child_ once more. They had given up on hope, they'd left him behind because they had thought he was beyond salvation - oh gods she could still remember the blood, how it was _everywhere_ , in everything. Yet no matter what had happened, what they had seen down there, it didn't excuse their actions. They should've tried harder. They should've ventured deeper into the darkness. They should've cared more but the truth, ugly and agonizing as an infected wound, was far _too simple_ to be forgiven.

They were scared of what was lurking in the dark, as a child that feared the monsters hiding under the bed or inside the closets. They were terrified of the Boogeyman for a plenty of good reasons. They had mourned Sandman and her fairies. They had lost Easter, their powers and countless believers in less than four days. They were weak, fragile as a glass case and it took them such a vengeful shock of reality to finally notice it. If that wasn't for Jack Frost they would be no more than old fairytales now, and instead of helping him just as he had done, they turned their backs on him and closed their eyes to his pain. It was **easy** to pretend he wasn't alive and suffering anymore, even if her heart betrayed its every beating, aching and weeping for the child that had never been hers.

 _He's gone_ , they had said. _There's nothing we can do. He'd understand._

They were wrong. Jack wouldn't understand it, for his heart was so pure, so full of compassion that he had chosen to try to save the Nightmare King over his own freedom, his life, his future. Jack wouldn't have given up on any of them as easily as they had done to him. And the moment she just swallowed the bitter truth, something clenched at her heart tightly, painfully. They had abandoned a child and they never looked back. How hadn't they seen it before? How could've they been **so blind**?

And now it didn't matter if she had the answers or not.  
He was lost to them, forever.

"Anna!"

Toothiana only felt her body moving before her dizzy mind finally noticed what was going on around them, her eyes completely focused on him, on his carefree expression and gentle smile. It seemed nothing and everything had changed, as if they had been separated for just a second and also a lifetime. He looked like the boy carved on his tooth box, with brown hair and mischievous eyes but something was just _different_ , unfamiliar but not strange at all. It was something she had never seen shining on his eyes before, and the moment she recognized it she felt like someone had just ripped the heart out of her chest because such pain couldn't be simple _emotional_. It was on the way he smiled at the redheaded girl, how his eyes shone too brightly that he was almost beaming.

It was pure happiness.  
He was happy. He was... really happy in there, in a way he had never been around them.

And oh it hurt. It hurt _so much_.

"Miss? Are you feeling well?" His touch on her arm was strangely warm, and if it wasn't for his voice she would've mistaken him for someone else - anyone else would be better than that. When their eyes met there were no recognition, no feelings of friendship or even hatred and spite. And Tooth would take anything but that empty look, anything _at all_. "You're crying."

"I... I..."

Her voice failed her, forcing back everything she wanted to say to him in that moment. She wanted to say how much she had missed him for all those years, how much she regretted leaving him on Pitch Black's lair. She wanted to hug him and plead for forgiveness, even if she didn't deserve it. None of the Guardians deserved his forgiveness, and they'd never have it no matter how they were feeling or what they thought - _he doesn't remember you,_ Emily had informed. _The price for a new life is abandoning the previous one._ And he did. Jack had grown so desperated that he had decided to give up on who he was only to become someone else. Someone that was free and happy and loved. In there he could be a happy child, a beloved son...

Why had she insisted on seeing him?  
Why was she torturing herself in such a cruel way?

"I'm fine..." She finally breathed out, wiping the tears away of her cheeks. What a wonderful mess she must be now... His touch on her arm didn't falter though, and she dwelled on it a bit longer than necessary, getting lost on the warmth of his eyes for long seconds. "You just reminded me of someone that was very dear for me... but he's gone."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

No, that wasn't right.  
 _She_ was sorry, for everything she had done.

Alas he'd never know it.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!  
**_ _ **See ya~**_


	52. Scent

_**Hello my dearies! Just a short, rushed chapter because well the idea popped up on my mind buuuuut I couldn't work on it very well and Bunny is just the most difficult character to write so I'm sorry about the messy chapter ;v;** **And thank you for your lovely reviews and follows &favorites. You guys are great and I'll never get tired of saying it. **_

_**PlaidOtaku:** Ohohoh I'll be explaining this timeline later but I can say it's quite my favorite because reasons~ **  
Ravenna Frost:** *gives you cookies and wraps you in a warm blanket* there you go, dear uvu you're too precious~_

 ** _If you have any request, let me know!  
*little spoiler: the Guardians will be around the _**_Welcome Home_ ** _timeline at least once*_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: In which Bunny ponders about scents._**

* * *

 **52\. Scent (2014)  
** _Guardians_

If there was something Bunnymund always appreciated about Jack Frost and, he dared to say it _only once_ and would _never_ repeat again, Pitch Black, it was their scent. That had been the very first thing he noticed in them the first time they met, and even if in both cases the circunstances of such meeting had been... more than unfriendly, he had never forgotten how unique they were. It was something different, apart from that world and everything on it. For some reason the Pooka couldn't comprehend, they were... **nothing like** the Guardians, or humans or even other dark and seasonal spirits. Their scent was something he couldn't really explain with simple words, just a strange feeling that creeped up his heart and threatened to bite on his sanity every time he decided to focus a bit longer on that.

Jack's scent was something strangely subtle and _touching_ , like a special snowflake falling among countless dull snowflakes, rarely recognized yet always there, waiting patiently for someone to come and play with it and get hurt during the game. The child smelled of early winters, dusty fairytales and unshed tears, such a **depressing** and powerful scent -more like a corrupted feeling- that sometimes Bunny felt it clinging at his fur for days, weeks even. It was a wonder how Jack could smile and laugh so easily, so happily when his whole being smelled _hopelessness, pain, rejection_. And every time the Pooka thought about that it hurt more than he'd ever admit because he knew it was their fault a child felt so unwanted, so unnecessary to the rest of the world. The might Guardians of Childhood had simply turned their backs to _a child in need_ because... Jack had found comfort and love in someone they despised more than anything else.

And Aster **dared** to say Jack Frost was the selfish one in there.

Pitch Black, on the other hand, had the most prominent scent of them both, strong and tangible as his shadows. It was always easy (almost _too easy_ ) to say when he was around, ready to jump out of a shadow or wherever was it he used to hide. He smelled of late nights, broken dreams and old velvet, and as odd as it sounded it wasn't an unpleasant scent at all. Well not as unpleasant as one would expect to smell on the _Nightmare King_ himself, for it wasn't the scent of a monster others claimed the Boogeyman to be. It was the smell of a man that had been lost and shattered by fate and darkness countless times, and it had always been too easy to forget Pitch had once been Kozmotis, the legendary hero none of them had met but had mourned wholeheartedly the loss. Sometimes Bunny wondered if that man still lived, in some deepest part of Pitch's blackened soul - as if the answer wasn't pretty obvious.

"Have you lost something on my face, rabbit?"

The harsh voice made the Pooka blink once, twice before his mind rushed back to the North Pole and his eyes really fell over Pitch, only to be surprised at the sight in front of him. At some point during that strange evening, Jack had moved to rest his head over Pitch's lap, his expression completely relaxed as the Boogeyman brushed his hair gently. He didn't even bugde at the sudden snap, simply adjusting himself on the couch and mumbling something that sounded like 'be nice'. And for some reason that was still unknown to Bunny, Pitch's face softened and in that moment something on his scent just... changed. It lasted for no more than a second but it had been enough to make the Pooka swallow back the spiteful retort dancing on his tongue. For a brief moment he could swear that the terrifying Pitch Black, the Nightmare King, shared Jack's scent, a soft yet **beautiful** mix of companionship and love.

For a second, they had the scent of a _family_.  
And it had been enough to bring a smile to Bunny's lips.

Maybe people could change, like scents and smells during a spring storm.  
Maybe Pitch could change, if they were willing to see it.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	53. Stars

_**Hello my dearies!~ Welcome to another short, random chapter but this one is kind special because it's dedicated to the lovely PlaidOtaku. You just gave me a new OTP and I regret nothing *giggles* However, I promise I'll be writing something about Jack soon but I need your help first! You guys remember Winter, right? Sooo, would you like him to be part of** 'Welcome Home' **timeline? It's up to you! And thank you so much for your reviews and follows &favorites. It means a lot to me and ugh you all are so beautiful and lovely I love everyone ;v;**_

 _ **Ravenna Frost:** it's not creepy at all! I'll try to make a chapter or some headcanon about it later ;v; **  
PlaidOtaku:** *giggles* you such a cutie **  
FrostedDragonHeart:** I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter! It makes me really happy~ **  
Mia:** oh welcome and thank you! I've never read this story you mentioned but I'll take a look at it later! Thank you for the tip!_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Kozmotis realize he doesn't like stars at all.**_

* * *

 ** _53\. Stars (2017)_  
** _Welcome Home_

"It seems the spell worked just as you planned."

He took a long moment to sip on his tea, enjoying the sweet warmth on his throath and wondering if he _should_ really lose his temper in that moment because it wasn't even worth the fun right now. He felt _exhausted_ to say the least, completely drained off for the powerful spell he had casted - and it had been a month already. How could the effects last for so long? Fortunately his tired expression served well enough as an answer and Phaethon slipped into the empty seat in front of him without another word, a friendly smile dancing on his lips. The silence that hovered over their heads was somehow strangely comfortable, filled with that old notion of a long forgotten friendship that dared to show its head after countless centuries of nothing more than mild, annoyed acceptance.

"Not _exactly_ as I planned, I believe." Kozmotis finally said, staring right into Phaethon's **mismatched** eyes - oh he had forgotten how much he loved such a wonderful imperfection, how much he had always admired the blue eye that resembled a sapphire and that vivid emerald green eye that seemed to hold an entire constellation in it, little silver stars that never ceased to move. And even if Pitch Black would never admit it (but Pitch didn't exist anymore so why should he worry about it?) he had missed the beauty of that fallen star. It wasn't a simple beauty, for nothing was simple about Phaethon, and even if it wasn't as glorious and stunning as it had been a long time ago, it was still unmatching and astounding. "What are you doing here?"

"I have a soft spot for this place. For the broken things living in here." Phaethon's voice was as soft as his touch, and Kozmotis didn't move as he felt the sudden warmth over his hands, simply allowing the human-spirit to entwine their fingers together. He didn't _want_ to move away, in fact. "Do you remember now, Kozmotis? Our travels and fights, chasing Fearlings all over the galaxies and taking them down... Those were good times."

"Indeed. I still wonder _when_ everything went wrong."

"Somewhen between the Third and Fifth Ages." Phaethon said simply, with such a forced blank expression that Kozmotis couldn't help the chuckle that bubbled up his throat, and before he had time to notice it they both were laughing a bit _too loud_. Good thing the diner was almost empty by now. "It's good to have you back, old friend. I'm sorry it took so long."

"You always knew..." The sheepish smile on the fallen star's lips was more than an answer, and for a moment Kozmotis felt himself squeezing the warm fingers between his, the shame creeping up his heart in a painful way. It hurt to remember all those terrible things he had done, to finally see he couldn't blame the Fearlings because... he had _wanted_ it. And the worse thing was... he didn't regret any of that. He regretted **nothing** but what he had done to Phaethon. "Why did you stay? If you knew what would happen, why didn't you just leave?"

"And let you have all the fun? Please, you know me better than that."

"I destroyed you."

"You _changed_ me." Phaethon's smile didn't falter as he moved forward, inches away from Kozmotis' face. Those eyes... The former general was pretty sure they'd be his ruin anyday. Again. "I always knew that would happen, I knew you'd fall. All I did was take a ride, and I don't regret it for a second. This place is a gift, my gift, because I knew things would change for you as well. Look at you now, Kozmotis! You're happy, Jack is safe and you have a family again. Don't waste your time drowning in regret for what you've done to me because you did nothing wrong. It was _my_ choice, not yours."

"Phaethon..."

"Phillip." Kozmotis blinked once, twice before something start to make sense on his mind, and the stupid star seemed to smile brighter than ever, enjoying his confusion. "I think I'll stay around for some time. See you later."

Their lips touched for no more than a second and the feeling - and Phaethon - was gone before Kozmotis had time to breath.  
It took him another whole minute to simply realize what had just happened.

Sweet darkness, _he hated stars_.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	54. Conflict

_**Hello again, dearies! This chapter is a bit late & rushed because I really owed you guys an explanation for chapter 50. I know it isn't a great chapter but well, I hope it's good enough for you~ and ugh you little fangirls are so lovely come here and lemme give u cookies & hugs! *giggles* thank you for your reviews, follows and favorites, it means a lot to me! Oh and I've just created a tumblr to post all the headcanons I have for this story (yeah I'm insane I know) so if you wanna take a look or submit any headcanon of yours, just go to** ahw-h tumblr com **~ it's still under construction but I'll be improving it in the next days!**_

 _ **If you have any request, let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 **Summary: In which Jack makes a vow.**

* * *

 **54\. Conflict (1829)  
** _Welcome Home_

There was something terribly wrong going on in there and Jack felt it the exact moment his barefeet touched the cold floor. He had been living there for just sixteen years but he had explored the dark palace upside down enough times to say when something was out of its place, and right now every inch of his body was simply screaming in pure dread and horror. _Wrong wrong_ _ **wrong**_. The lair was just too quiet, strangely colder and darker than he had ever seen before. His grip around the magical staff tightened more and more as he moved further into the darkness, the Wind whispering little warnings everytime he passed by a shadow and pulling him away from danger. Yet he couldn't understand why she thought he was in danger. He was _home_ , and nothing in there would hurt him. Pitch had made it very clear the day they decided to move in together. And just in that moment he noticed **what** was driving him so distressed, so uncomfortable.

Pitch Black was _nowhere_ to be seen.

Even the Fearlings seemed to have disappeared without a trace in the midst of the thick darkness that surrounded every corner of his twisted, tainted wonderland. Out there were only the shadows, moving restlessly and growling louder and louder, agitated and dangerous as a wild animal. The moment they got too close, the winter child felt a wave of pure fright and panic rush wrecking through his body and he retreated into an open door before his confused mind had enough time to register what was happening. He was simply _terrified_ of his own home and he couldn't say why. Had he done something wrong? Maybe Pitch got mad at him because of his latest pranks yet it wasn't a very good excuse to scare him out of his mind. And he just stopped moving away from the shadows when his back hit something and pain spreaded up and down his bones for no more than a moment. A soft 'tic' echoed in what was supposed to be an empty room and Jack moved to look over his shoulder.

Horror made its way into his frozen heart when his eyes fell on the rot piece of wood that once had been a wonderful, royal clock. That clock wasn't supposed to be there. It wasn't supposed to be _working_ at all, and much less... backwards! A scream got painfully stuck on his throat, choking him with his own fear. Everything was just _suffocating_ , wrong and no matter how much he tried his mind refused to put thoughts in place. Tears blurred his vision yet he didn't allow them to fall, forcing himself to think about anything else but the pain forming on his chest. He didn't want to believe Pitch would simply... betray him like that. They were friends, right? They were almost a family, if he dared to believe in it. The Nightmare King wouldn't throw it all away because...

Because of _what_ , exactly?  
Jack couldn't say, and he had no time to form a single idea.

Long fingers digged into his shoulders, ashen hands burning his cold skin with their overheated touch. A soft whimper found its way out of his lips and he tried to escape, every instinct on his frozen body telling him to _run away and never look back_ but he just couldn't. As much as he **wanted** to flee, he couldn't move. The painful touch on his shoulders intensified and forced him to turn around, and in the next moment he was staring right into the Boogeyman's golden eyes... and he didn't recognize Pitch. His eyes were filled with malice, with pure evil. _Something_ was missing, that soft light that made the gold become silver and then gold again. For an entire minute he simply waited for that light to come back. He hoped it'd come back and just show him how wrong he was in doubt Pitch. But nothing happened, and he finally understood.

He wasn't staring at Pitch, at the man behind the shadows.  
No, he was staring right at the beast.

"Back so soon, are we?" The Nightmare King purred with a voice that wasn't his, the crooked smile on his lips making him look terribly cruel and heartless in a way Jack had never seen him before. The child finally escaped the iron grip on his shoulders, retreating until his back hit the rotten clock once more. His sharp breath sounded too loud and hitched on his ears, his heart pounding wildly against his ribcage. He was more than frightened. He was _horrified_. "Don't tell me you got tired of your new friends."

"M-my... friends?"

"Oh, Jack. I know it was their fault." Icy blue eyes followed the ashen fingers until they disappeared inside the dark robe and waited until they came back into view with a small, red purse that glittered with million little stars. The dreamsand mixed with stardust Sandman gave him days ago... when they were crossing over the North Pole together. Oh no. _No no no no_ \- "They turned you against me."

"No... No! Pitch, listen-" The winter spirit cried out in surprise and pain when the shadows embraced him in less than a second, squeezing the air out of his lungs, almost shattering every one of his bones yet he felt something else breaking _inside_ him. His trust, his hopes... It hurt more than the darkness trying to tear him apart. He didn't even notice the moment the room changed - or when they moved to another place, he didn't really care. He only felt himself being thrust into one of those hanging cages decorating the main room and heard the door being locked. Another painful crack echoed within him and for the first time in that night the child allowed tears to run down his cheeks. "P-please, listen to me! T-they told me it could work... L-love can break any curse, even y-yours."

"I know, dearie. Unfortunately I don't believe in you."

"W-why?"

"Because no one could _ever_ love me."

* * *

Jack never knew how long he laid there, waiting and wondering what would happen to him. He had long stopped crying, seeking comfort on the cold and frost covering the cage. The Wind wailed around him, tugging at his clothes and hair yet the child just ignored her. As much as he felt bad for that, there was little he could do without his staff and flying with her wasn't included on those little things - and what was the point of flying if he couldn't simply escape his cage? Struggling was pointless, exhausting and he knew it. So he just laid and waited for his fate, mourning the ruined friendship he had lost. He couldn't comprehend how things have gone so wrong in so little time. He was just trying to help, to pull Pitch out of the darkness consuming his soul... yet it seemed he had just pushed him deeper to the bottom. The gentle 'click' went unnoticed and Jack just realized he was on the ground, at the Nightmare King's feet, because the shadows were really rude. His side ached and burned in pain but he refused to weep, moving to sit on his knees before he finally stood up.

For a long moment all Pitch did was stare at him, his golden eyes dull and empty of any emotion.

Jack stared back, his heart beating faster than it should. There was _something missing_ within the Boogeyman, and he didn't know what was that.

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Go." Pitch's voice sounded as dull as his eyes looked, and the winter child couldn't help the tears that blurred his vision once more for a second. He forced them back just as quickly, groaning when the dark spirit threw his staff right into his stomach. "I don't want you anymore, child. You're useless to me."

Jack Frost swallowed back the bitter retort and salty tears. They tasted like poison burning his stomach, killing him slowly even if he couldn't die.  
That was it, he was all alone again. Even the **Boogeyman** casted him out.

"You're going to regret it, you know...?" His voice betrayed his calm facade, trembling and filled with sorrow and sadness... He hadn't felt them in a long time, and now he was sure they'd be his only company for longer than he cared to know. "You don't think I can love you... when I already had. Now all you'll ever have is an empty heart and a hollow soul."

When he turned to leave, he made a silent vow he'd never return to that place, no matter what he felt.

He didn't need some old, battered spirit by his side anyway.  
He could cope with loneliness. He had done it before.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	55. Lullaby

**_Hello my dearies! WOW we're almost at 200 reviews this is just wonderful and I couldn't be more happy you guys are great thank you so so much! You make me really really happy ;v; you're the ones that keep this story alive! *gives cookies for each one of you*_**

 ** _PlaidOtaku:_** _of course! I miss her too, such a cutie~_ ** _  
FrostedDragonHeart:_** _I didn't mean to make you cry, sorry ;v;_

 ** _And for those who are interested, I've created a blog to keep all the headcanons of this story in there! Feel free to send your own headcanons~! The link is_** _ahw-h tumblr com **And i**_ ** _f_ _you have any request, let me know!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Pitch remembers an old lullaby.**_

* * *

 ** _55\. Lullaby (1708)_  
** _Guardians; Lightbringer_

He couldn't understand why such a miserable place always _attracted_ him so much, and in fact he had never cared in finding out the true reasons for his behavior. No one was around to jugde him but the shadows, and they knew better than mock him for some moments of weakness. He had owned it after so many centuries fighting and being defeated. He could be weak for some time, and that mere thought didn't bother him at all. More than once Pitch Black had caught himself wandering through those same woods over and over again, waiting patiently for his power to return, wondering if someday he'd rise and be the King he was supposed to be. He had fallen so deeply and so many times that such a prospect seemed childish and stupid yet he dared to _hope_. That little flicker of hope had been the only thing keeping him alive, and hiding in the shadows of those woods had always brought back a sense of... something warm and familiar that he couldn't recall the name but **enjoyed** its presence on his chest nonetheless. Maybe that was why he kept coming back and why he decided to stay a little longer than necessary.

Yet...

There was something different about the woods tonight.  
There was a child weeping quietly over a body that no longer moved. There was a smell of blood and tears and fear.

Ah, _delicious_ fear...

A smile crept up on his lips as the shadows created a path to their master. In a blink of eye he was standing behind the boy, golden eyes closed as he feasted on the fear emanating from that little, trembling body. It had been **so long** since he had found a proper meal yet he couldn't bring himself to dwell on it for no more than a few minutes. Something was just wrong about the whole situation, and the fallen King felt himself retreating a step or two right before the Moon shone over the child's head. Oh there was a lot of blood around, indeed - but the boy seemed unharmed. His soft sobs echoed louder in the silence of the woods, and Pitch Black tilted his head in curiosity. Fate was a curious thing after all. There were many possibilities, many paths to take ahead and yet sometimes everything seemed to be set on stone... A wolf howled closer than he expected, bringing him back from his random thoughts, and in the same moment the child wept in agony, crying out for the father that couldn't help him anymore.

What a pitiful little thing that one was.  
How long would it take until he died by cold, hunger or the wolves?

"If you keep crying this loud, the wolves will surely find you." Pitch said out loud, certain that the lost child wouldn't hear him. No one had for the past centuries, after all... and then the impossible, the unthinkable just happened. Just like in a dream he no more had, the child looked back and _right at him_. **Not through him**. The little boy looked right into his eyes, and the Boogeyman stepped back with the impact of shock and happiness and relief that washed over his whole being like a tidal wave. It was too much to bear at once and he didn't even notice the moment he stuttered stupidily. "You... can see me... You can _see_ me."

"M-my papa..."

That was all the boy moaned, trying to wipe away the tears on his face but he just managed to make a mess over himself. There was a mix of blood and dirt and tears over his young skin and oh gods that thing surely needed a proper bath soon. Pitch stepped closer, ignoring the blasted moon and its commander, daring to allow his hope to burn brighter than ever. His fingers rested over the brown, dirty hair and stayed there, and once more that powerful feeling of warmth and happiness almost knocked him out of his feet. How could it be possible? How could a child believe in him after all those decades of _pure nothing_? Alas there was little time to dwell on those endless questions for soon the boy would perish because of the cold or the wolves would finally find him. Should he let the child die? The one who could see him and feel his touch... He could be a little selfish just once, just now. Slowly he bent and wrapped the child in the folds of his robe, ignoring the blood and dirt staining his clothes. He could care about washing later.

"Hush now, child." The lord of shadows whispered as the boy started to fuss over, yet the strange kindness on his voice had been enough to make the child look up with pleading eyes filled with tears. "Surely your father had not wished you to die alone on this place. Now cease your insufferable crying at once and tell me where I shall take you."

The boy sniffed and moved to look around once, twice before tears escaped his eyes for the hundredth time on that night and a pained sob left his trembling lips. He was lost and alone, that was much obvious. Pitch felt the urge to smack himself. Sweet darkness why was he worried about a human child now? They only served as a fuel to him, their fears and nightmares too pure and powerful to be ignored yet there he was, nestling a mourning child against his chest as he had done to his own offspring so many millenniums ago. _A mourning child that believed in him and could see him_ , a voice whispered inside his head. The Nightmare King inhaled a sharp breath and forced a gentle, comforting smile to show on his face as he moved further into the woods and away from the rotting body. Let the wolves end their meal, but that child wouldn't be harmed.

He settled near a lake that was no bigger than a pond, the moon shining brightly over its frozen waters. It was a beautiful sight for such a terrible evening.

The child whimpered, distressed and cold. He pulled his robe tighter around the boy, keeping him as warm as it could be possible. Soon the little human rested the feverish head against his shoulder, sniffling and sobbing quietly. Warmth wouldn't be enough to distract him from what had happened and Pitch had no idea of what he could do. He had never dealt with children - well he knew he had had a daughter once, in a long time ago and yet he couldn't bring himself to remember. There was too much to feel and remember and those old days had been washed away by the same darkness that laid within his soul, but as he searched in the depths of his mind something seemed to crawl back into the light.

An old rhyme his precious offspring had cherished so much, that always comforted and calmed her during thundery nights...

The ancient lullaby clawed at his throat yet he refused to swallow it back as his body claimed. Pride be damned, he'd rather have those foul Guardians watching him sing to a child than listen to his endless crying for all night long. Even _his_ patience had a limit, for darkness' sake. And sing he did, with all the softness and gentleness a dark being could muster, until the child finally ceased his wailing and relaxed on his arms. Even if his little body still trembled with sobs and fright of death, his eyes were sleepy and his breath steady. The fallen king did feel the smile that crossed his lips and for some reason he allowed it to stay a little longer, watching as the young human fell asleep on his arms without a trace of fear of him. A child that didn't fear the mighty Boogeyman and yet could see him... how ironic.

"What a special child you are, little one. Have no fear... I shall watch over your light for a long, long time."

Yet he hadn't expected the child to die a few years after that night, drowned in that same pond.  
Fate was surely a diabolic mistress.

* * *

 _ **The lullaby can be heard on Youtube! It's called "Inuyasha's Lullaby", by Lizz Robinett. She deserves lots of love too!**_

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	56. Flower

**_Hello dearies~ Welcome to a little filler and I hope you don't mind it because I just couldn't think about a proper chapter for today and oh well. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter anyway ;v; aaand thank you for your reviews, follows &favorites! I can't even believe this story got 200 reviews! It's just wow guys you're truly amazing! Thank you so so much!_**

 ** _FrostedDragonHeart:_** _I knooow right ;v; this is one of my favorites chapters so far because I really enjoy Pitch's point of view (even if it's just tooooooo hard to write him *sigh*) he was okay tho, he was around Jack when he died~ thank you my dear!  
_ ** _Guest:_** _Hello and thank you! Welcome Home is quite my favorite timeline and I'll be explaining it later~ and oops, thank you for warning me about the tumblr thing. Everything is open now and you can submit your headcanons by askbox! Sorry about it ;v;_

 ** _If you guys have any requests, headcanons, etc let me know!  
_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: Just a little filler, nothing big. I mean it~_**

* * *

 ** _56\. Flower (1877)  
_** _Lightbringer_

"A... flower?" Blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the yellow bloom being offered to him. Not that he didn't enjoy flowers... He loved nature and every little thing on it, yet the biggest problem rested on _who_ was trying to give him such a meaningful gift. The herald of summer only stared back at him serenely, the gentle smile on his lips never faltering as he waited for a response, whatever should it be. There was no treachery on his golden eyes (a kind of gold that could match the very sun if one wanted to compare), nor cruelty nor any kind of threat and just after a long, silent moment Jack stepped closer and allowed his fingers to touch the fragile flower. "It's pretty and all, not saying otherwise but... why?"

"Do I need a reason to be nice to you?"

"Let me see... yes, you do." The winter child deadpanned, yet he pulled his gift closer to his chest to keep it safe. Aurion just raised an eyebrow, his expression completely unreadable. It was a hard glance that looked completely alien on the summer spirit's always soft and wise face, and for a moment Jack needed to fight the urge to step away from him. "Really, Aurion... all you ever did on the past century was beat the hell out of me whenever I trespassed your territory or send your sprites after me on your place."

"You've got a point. However, I came here to apologize." At least Aurion had the decency to look ashamed, and in that moment Jack allowed himself to relax a bit more around him and take a proper look on the little flower. His frost had creeped up the leaves, making it look even more fragile and beautiful than before. The older spirit finally cleared his throat to get Jack's attention and once more blue met gold for a long, silent minute. "I was wrong. I've been wrong about you since... forever. Jökul and Old Man Winter did terrible things to us in the past, and for that we- I judged you too quickly. I was _terrified_ , and for that I failed in notice you are special. I'm sorry, Jack."

Well that was something Jack wasn't really expecting to hear. Almost every other seasonal spirit he had met had made sure to make him feel like a burden, a simple mistake that shouldn't even existe and yet there was Aurion, looking as sincere as it could be possible. A burning knot got stuck on his throat and the winter child looked away, trying to swallow it back at the same time he felt his cheeks flushing up in at least three different shades of blue. Summer smiled once more, moving close enough to rest a hand on his shoulder. The warmth emanating from his hand was different, gentler than ever before and almost resembling Pitch. It wasn't a touch that was meant to hurt him, and for the first time in forever Jack didn't step away. He wanted to, every inch of his body screamed against his naivety yet... he couldn't.

"You... mean it?"

"You know me, Snowy. Would I be here, almost begging your forgiveness, if I didn't mean every word?" Jack shook his head slowly, relaxing even more under the soft warmth. It recalled home, safety, things he had been so sure he had lost during the Guardians incident... Pitch was still out there, planning gods knew what against the Big Four even if Jack had begged him to stop, and any comfort would be nice and welcome in that moment. His eyes fell on the yellow flower, admiring it for a second longer than necessary. It seemed to thrive under his cold touch instead of whiter, a rare gift meant only to a few. "There's... something else I wanted to ask you."

"Yeah, sure."

"Nature is gathering a... celebration of some sort on the next solstice and we..." Aurion looked away quickly, as if trying to hide the soft pink hue coloring his cheeks. He was... _blushing_. That day couldn't get any more strange. "I want you to come over." Okay, that day **could** get way more strange than it already was. And it wasn't even noon! The winter spirit swallowed back the painful lump stuck on his throat and forced himself to pay attention to whatever Aurion was still talking about. "Of course you don't need to. I understand if you're not interested."

"No, it's just..."

And the words escaped his tongue before he could say them. _Just what?_ How could he say he was afraid of going to a meeting with another seasonal spirits? That he was **terrified** of what they'd do once he stepped in there? That he only wanted to hide behind Pitch's shadow for a long, long time- so maybe, just maybe the Guardians would forget about his existence. But the Nightmare King wasn't around to protect him now, and Aurion kept staring at him with those golden eyes filled with serenety and understanding. The warm fingers traveled down his arm to rest around his wrist gently, forcing the cold away and making him shiver at the strange feeling that didn't feel wrong nor bad at all.

"No one will hurt you." The summer creature said softly, his voice filled with the same warmth and gentleness that filled his touch. "Amelia asked me to tell you she's sorry for everything, and she means it as much as I do. Aurora, well... it's only a matter of time until Nature banishes her for good. She's being a pain in the ass for everyone, not just you." And Aurion's smile grew brighter as Jack chuckled. "I know I shouldn't even say that but... trust me, Jack. It'll be fun."

Well...  
How could he ignore some little fun?

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	57. Celebration

**_Hello my dearies! Embrace yourselves for the continuation of the previous chapter BWHAHAHA *coughs* Sorry~ Welcome to a new kinda-filler chapter and I regret nothing. And omg what why are there so many reviews I'm so lost you guys are just... *squeaks* Thank you thank you thank you! ;v; It means a lot to me, really. Shouts out for Ravenna Frost because Winter will be showing up anytime soon and he'll be a cute part of_** _Welcome Home_ ** _timeline~ I'd love to reply to every review of the previous chapter but I don't wanna give you guys any spoiler so I'll just leave here with a big thank you for being so wonderful and nice to me! ;v;_**

 ** _If you guys have any requests, headcanons, etc. let me know!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: No spoilers here today. Nope nope._**

* * *

 ** _57\. Celebration (1877)  
_** _Lightbringer_

He had been expecting a thousand and one things in that 'celebration', to cruel glares to painful touches and burns. He had _really_ stepped into Nature's main hall dressed in fear and pure dread, thorn between running back home as a scared child or staying and allowing them to mock and humiliate him as they had always done. Why had he accepted Aurion's invitation? It **was** a trap, obvious and incredibly stupid yet he had believed they could've changed... Was he truly that desperated for some attention? The soft music and indistinct chattering barely reached his ears as he forced himself to step further into the ballroom, eyes grounded on the pearly white floor not to see them pointing and laughing because what else would they do? He probably looked ridiculous on all that fancy clothing, and more than than he felt completely naked without his staff. No one was supposed to be carrying weapons, Aurion had said. It was just a friendly celebration, yet he knew something, someone was just waiting for him to let his guard down. A warm hand resting gently on his shoulder was the only thing that made Jack stop walking aimlessly around, yet he didn't dare to look up. Just a little longer... He wanted to enjoy that fake calmness for only a little longer before everything shattered.

But he had not expected Aurion to touch his face _gently_ and lift his chin up. Their eyes finally met for only a second, and for the first time in that night he allowed himself to take a look around and oh well, Jack was simply shocked. If that was the proper word to describe the river of feelings flowing over his chest for long, painful minutes.

No one was staring.  
No one was mocking, nor laughing nor whispering.

How... how could that be even _possible_? He recognized every sprite gathered around the ballroom, the same seasonal spirits that hurt and beated him more times he cared to count on his short life. And they were simply there, gossiping or drinking or just... enjoying the celebration and themselves. Not a single glance full of hatred and despise had been sent towards him, and those who had noticed his presence only waved and smiled gently, a strange smile filled with... shame and regret. Something was just wrong. That was a cruel, terrible joke and soon someone would just break the spell and...

"Hey, relax." Oh right. Aurion was still there, both hands pressed against his shoulders, and Jack let out the distasteful breath he had no idea he had been holding until now. "Is something wrong?"

He wanted to shout ot that _everything_ was wrong and out of place. He shouldn't be there, he should be home with the only person that really cared for him. He shouldn't be a stupid lamb walking right into the wolf's mouth. How long would it take until they dissipated the joke? He wished it'd be sooner than later, so he wouldn't hope they had really changed. He wouldn't dare to hope he was welcomed, wanted. He shouldn't allow himself _to hope_ \- but he couldn't voice his thoughts. He couldn't escape that overwhelming pressure that settled within his chest, smashing his heart and soul, stealing the air out of his lungs. His vision blurred for no more than a second but before he could even think about moving, the summer spirit had wiped the half-frozen tears away.

"You...are scared?" Jack wanted to refuse and laugh it off as he'd done if the situation was different, if his poor soul wasn't still completely drained out after the Guardians' incident. He really wanted to shake his head and say everything was fine but his voice failed him once more. "No one's going to hurt you." Aurion tried to reassure him as if only words would be enough to calm him down, stepping away to give him all the precious personal space Jack needed in that moment that served better than a bucket of cold water falling over his head, forcing the panic deep into his mind. His breath felt alien and painful on his throat but he knew he should just relax and maybe things wouldn't go down too soon, yet the summer spirit simply offered him a sheepish smile, hands hid into the pockets of his jacket. "It's a bit... overwhelming, isn't it?"

 _A bit overwhelming_ couldn't even match the countless feelings trying to push against his chest, but Jack shrugged it off as soon as the thought dared to show up on his mind. Things were going just fine for now, so he forced himself to pay attention to something else, and for the first time in that night he really _looked_ at Aurion. His clothes were as elegant and majestic as they should be, fitting him with such perfection that for a second Jack allowed a sharp pang of jealousy rise within him only to push it away. Why should he even **bother** about that? Those were just clothes and that was just a strange celebration and oh well, he just wanted to go home and back to his quiet, carefree routine. And then there were warm hands touching him again, making him shudder at the sudden feeling, and pulling him somewhere away from the ballroom. Every inch of his body tensed in antecipation, blue eyes wide in fear as he simply was dragged into...

A balcony.

The winter child blinked once, twice before realization dawned over him and he stared at the herald of summer in shocked, silent disbelief. The Wind giggled at his bewildered expression and ruffled his hair gently, snapping him out of his astonished thoughts. Aurion smiled at him for only a moment before moving to lean against the balcony, golden eyes completely focused on the dark sky. The stars were shining brightly that night, a beautiful scene he had forgotten how much he had missed until now. Jack took in a deep breath, wriggling his fingers by his sides nervously. If he just had his staff right now, he wouldn't feel so... _vunerable_. So weak. If he had his staff, no one would really hurt him- because the first thing he'd do was run away as fast as the Wind could take him. Unfortunately he didn't have his precious conduit right now and well, no one was even trying to approach him so maybe, just maybe he should relax and trust Aurion. He stepped closer to the summer spirit, allowing his gaze to get lost on the endless starry sky.

"Can I tell you something?" Aurion asked so softly, so suddenly that for a second Jack wondered if he had really said something, but the way his expression hardened into concern left no doubt. "Just listen, okay? When the Guardians kept you captive, I... really thought it'd be for the best. I thought Nature could deal with spreading Winter herself, but I didn't think you... you'd be like me. We're not like the other seasons, Jack. Aurora and Amelia simply have power over Spring and Autumn. They're gentle, submissive seasons and they do not care about who are wielding them, as long as things are done properly." Once more their eyes met and there was something unreadable shining on the older spirit's golden hues. "Summer and Winter aren't this simple. They're not forces to be toyed with as those two do with their petty flowers. They're dangerous, uncontrollable. So, on the beginning of time, Nature bounded them into her first counselors' souls."

"Okay..." A lecture wasn't on his plans for the night, but Jack couldn't help the string of curiosity that blossomed on his chest. "Wait, Emily just... jailed an entire season into someone?" That sounded quite stupid, if one asked him. The older spirit just shrugged, probably agreeing with his thoughts. "How?"

"I have no idea how she did it, nor how they survived the ritual but in the end it _did_ work. Winter and Summer will be forever bounded to a soul in order to keep their powers under enough control. Through the centuries the original wielders faded away or got too old to keep living, and when their time came the seasons chose a new soul to rest with. Winter... always made _terrible_ choices. The Winter Queen, Old Man and Jökul... they got corrupted by its power and they did terrible, terrible things to us all. When Jökul finally died, Nature kept Winter sealed away but one day it was gone. We looked everywhere until we found you, but you were so... young. I didn't believe Winter would choose you. No one did."

"Sorry, what?" Aurion scoffed softly, a humored smile dancing on his lips, and the winter child relaxed even more. They had simply spent more than five minutes together and the summer wielder hadn't even tried to hurt him at all. It was... he couldn't even _find_ the right words to describe his feelings in that moment. "I'd understand it better if you could just speak English, you know? Ancient Greek isn't my thing yet."

"Very funny, Snowy." And before Jack had enough time to move away there was Aurion towering over him, pressing a warm finger against his ribcage right over his heart, and the only thing that made the younger stay still was the friendly expression on Summer's thin face. "You have Winter itself linked at your soul, just as I have Summer linked at mine. When the Guardians locked you away and deprived you from spreading snow and blizzards around, they stopped a season in its middle. The pain you felt... it was _Winter_ dying. Summer felt it too, its kindred season withering away slowly. That was when I finally understood you were nothing like Jökul. You didn't let your powers control you. You didn't seek revenge on what the Guardians did, on what **we** did to you, even if you should. You should _hate_ us all, for nature's sake."

"But I do." His voice sounded softer than he had planned, yet it reached his goal. Aurion's eyes widened in shock and pain as he stepped back, keeping his hands by his sides, hands curled into tight fists. "I hate you all for ignoring me during my first years, for hurting me with no reason. I still have no idea why I'm here, Aurion. I could do all those terrible things Jökul and Old Man Winter had done. Sometimes I _want_ to, but the thing is... I don't want you guys to fear me. I just want some fun times and snowdays, that's all."

"Well... I'm not sure about the snowdays , but we _can_ have some fun right now. Care to lend me a snowball?" Oh Jack knew that mischievous smile perfectly well. Someone was going to get hurt- and he just hoped it wasn't him, at least tonight.

"I thought this was a friendly meeting."

The smile on Aurion's face simply grew wider, and Jack decided to drown all his worries and fears deep into his chest. Just this once he'd allow himself to feel at home, and oh that was the best thing he had done in that night. He didn't even regret his decision later.

The snowball filled with summer light hit their new target right into the face. Silence reigned over the ballroom for a very, very long second.  
Amelia's hounds chased them both until Mother Nature got tired of laughing.

* * *

 _ **I know you were expecting something else. No hurt!Jack today for you~** ***evil giggles***_

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	58. Snowflake

_**Hello my dearies! Another quick chapter because my mind is focused on something else and I'm sorry for it ;v; but I hope you enjoy the chapter! And thank you guys for your reviews, follows &favorites, they mean a lot to me and make me really happy! *gives you all cookies* you're great!**_

 _ **DayLightDove:** oh thank you so much, dear! It means a lot to me and I'm really really happy you're enjoying the story and the characters. Aurion and Jack are two big cuties together, I won't deny it~ *giggles*  
 **FrostedDragonHeart:** thank you, dearie! It's good for Jack to have someone who can understand him, and Aurion is a cutie uvu  
 **PlaidOtaku & Ravenna Frost:** I'm glad you guys approve the chapter, very much glad *nodnod*_

 _ **So, if you guys have any request, headcanon, etc you can send me a PM or submit it to this story's tumblr! The link is** ahw-h tumblr com_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack answers a question (or at least tries to).**_

* * *

 _ **58\. Snowflake (1812)  
**_ _Guardians; Welcome Home_

"What are you doing?"

The indignificant, surprised noise that escaped his lips would be forever denied, no matter what Pitch said later. Fear ran freely through his body for no longer than a heartbeat, and soon the winter child was laughing softly at his own foolishness. How odd and alien it still was to have someone _talking to him_ after a hundred years of isolation, and he knew it'd take him longer than a few weeks of a strange, unnamed relationship with the forsaken Boogeyman _hell what was he thinking to befriend the King of Nightmares himself?_ to get used to conversations and sudden touches and everything else normal people did and he had envied so much before. Golden eyes hovered over his head, expectant and eager to have a reply, waiting and wanting to satisfy a **burning** curiosity - as if Jack was something apart from that world, something Pitch Black had never seen nor comprehended. And once more his laughter filled the air, blue eyes shining under the moonlight; a free spirit that always found joy in the simplest things. He watched as gold became silver on the Boogeyman's eyes, a beautiful replica of an eclipse Jack loved to witness.

"Crafting snowflakes." He just said, with all the simplicity and obviousness a child could muster, and another giggle made its way up his throat as the shadows creeped up closer, sharing its master's annoyance and impatience, barely containing themselves in their dance of _touch taunt hurt_. Yet he didn't move away from the wild tendrils, the smile on his face never faltering as Pitch Black finally, finally moved into the light. He towered over the winter boy with no effort, a perfect picture of **fear itself** forever bounded to a body that changed and twisted at its desires, and Jack felt that unpleasant shiver of dread course through his veins as the darkness grew thicker around his body. Perhaps it was time to elaborate a better response than the one he offered...

Pitch blinked too slowly, a wolf eyeing its prey carefully before deciding to attack. "Why?"

Oh... he didn't see that one coming, and for the first time on his life he didn't have a smart nor quick retort.

For a moment he furrowed his brows in confusion, searching in the depths of his mind for a really good answer when there was **none**. It just always felt... right. Something he _needed_ to do when Winter was getting close, the only thing that made him forget about the constant loneliness and bitterness that kept trying to chew on his soul. Snowflakes were fragile and should be handled with care and passion, every one different from the last. They _should_ be different, a little voice on his head had always said, like raindrops or grains of sand, and he never bothered to really know why. It had never mattered before. So he did the obvious; he shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the flash of anger that crossed the Boogeyman's eyes for a second.

"I don't know, really. It's something I just... _need_ to do." The winter boy replied, and the moment Pitch's expression softened gently didn't go unnoticed. "It seems that's the only thing I can make right."

"I understand. What a special snowflake **you** are, Jack."

Frost creeped up his cheeks the very moment the sudden praise reached his ears, yet Pitch simply disappeared into his shadows, giving him no time to even think about a good reply. Jack took a deep breath, moving to bury himself deeper into the snowbank to maybe, just maybe ignore the stupid feeling of _happiness_ blossoming in his chest just because of a quick compliment.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	59. Nightlight

**_Hello my dearies! Ugh I wish random ideas would stop popping up on my mind because I can't concentrate on anything else *sighs* and I should really read the books again. However, thank you for being so nice and keep reading this story, it means a lot to me! ;v; You guys are great, really! Thanks for your reviews, follows & favorites~_**

 ** _FrostedDragonHeart:_** _you so cute and wonderful thank you thank you *gives lots of cookies*_ ** _  
Guest:_** _well it was basically what happened during the movie but with lots of drama and all that stuff. I'll write a chapter about it later! ;v;_

 ** _If you guys have any request, headcanon, etc let me know!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians_**

* * *

 ** _Summary: In which Jack is in a terrible mood because of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _59\. Nightlight (2013)  
_** _Guardians_

If the blow of cold wind invading the lair all of sudden hadn't been enough to report that a little winter spirit was in a terribly foul mood, a couple of frozen and _scared_ Nightmares running to hide behind the Boogeyman surely did the trick. Of all days of the entire year, Jack would really throw a temper trantum _today_... Lady Fate did hate him with all her might. A harsh sigh escaped his lips as Pitch moved to bury himself deeper into the shadows of his throne, allowing his body to ehxale every inch of tiredness and exhaustion his mind was filled with. Ignoring an angry child would be worse than listen to his complains, yet he simply wished Jack would leave it to another day, another hour... Alas it seemed Phaethon enjoyed to hover around his lair for way longer than necessary.

Stupid fallen star, he should've skinned him when he got the chance-

"Who **the fuck** is Nightlight?"

No, Pitch changed his mind. He should've skinned _the Guardians_ when he had the chance.  
Why hadn't he done it? Oh yes, Jack had befriended them.

"Stop wailing, for darkness' sake." The retort sounded much more bitter and colder than he had antecipated but _oh sweet shadows_ it made the winter child shut up and retreat a step or two, yet the Boogeyman regretted his tone the moment his eyes fell over the boy. Jack's eyes were bright with unshed tears, lacking the careless happiness that always filled his impossibly blue hues. He was **hurt** , and that simple realization made the Nightmare King bolt up from the throne, standing taller than his shadows, anger replacing the previous exhaustion. How _dared_ they hurt his precious child? "What's wrong, snowflake?"

"The Guardians, they..." Jack muttered, deciding to stop for a moment to take a shaking breath before looking up at Pitch's blazing eyes. "I know they're complete weirdos but... the thing is, they could just talk about this Nightlight guy today. Bunny told me to get lost that it wasn't my business but-"

"You were _eavesdropping_." The soft layer of frost that creeped up the child's cheeks easily gave him up, and for once Jack had the decency of looking embarrassed. Tension seemed to melt away slowly, the anger that had been boiling under his skin fading away as Pitch sat back on the dark throne, sighing. "They're right. Nightlight is not of your concern." The flash of betrayal that crossed the icy eyes stung on his chest like a physical blow, yet he didn't allow it to last. As Jack stepped closer, mouth opening and closing as if he couldn't simply find the right words, the Boogeyman held a hand up to quiet him down. "However, it doesn't mean you should be left out of the matter."

"They were... really upset. North kept babbling something like 'he's not Nightlight' when they were talking about me."

The lord of shadows simply nodded, wondering if it was his place to tell Jack the gruesome truth. Oh well he had shared countless stories about his old days, about how bloodthirsty and mad for revenge he had been but thinking about that, he had never told the winter child how he had collided on that despicable little planet. Nightlight had always slipped from his mind, like a bothersome thought that never left no matter how hard he tried to push it away yet kept disappearing into the sea of other more important thoughts. For the moment he allowed Jack's doubts to sink into his flesh he stared at the boy, trying to find a resemblance, any trait that would make him believe he had been fooled for too long.

"You could be." His voice echoed weakily, forcing himself not to dwell on that any longer. Something on Jack's shuddering body seemed to tense up in that right moment, eyes losing its usual happiness and becoming strangely wary, dangerously angry. It was obvious he disliked the idea at all, and he didn't even need to hold his staff too tight to let his powers flow freely, the snowflakes falling from nowhere and around him. Pitch forced another harsh sigh into his darkened lungs, a hand covering his ashen face to focus on anything else but the urge to smack some sense into Jack's frozen head. He was way _too old_ for that, and the burning headache that started to form didn't ease his mood at all. "Nightlight was... a really annoying thing, the first Guardian to ever exist. He was the one that made me fell on this excuse of a planet when I attacked the Moon Chipper. For a long time we were trapped in a cave until a moonbeam woke that devilish creature from our slumber, and then he joined the Guardians one by one until they became... whatever they are now. We fought for many, many years but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't simply... stop him. Until I succeeded."

"What happened to him?"

"I killed him. Don't give me this look-" The Boogeyman barked at the winter child's desolated, hurt expression yet he couldn't deny that having his precious ward looking at him with such disappointment glued at his face was a rather _unpleasant_ feeling. "I did it a millennium ago, even more."

"So... I _could_ be him?" Jack sounded so lost and so young that for a moment any resemblance he had with that stupid star-child Nightlight was gone. His grip on the old staff tightened at the point his knuckles became more white than it should be possible, and his distress echoed into Pitch's body like waves. "But...I've had a life before I became me..."

"Hush, snowflake. You shan't dwell on it any longer. Nightlight is no more, and what remained of him had been sealed away into that same cave by his last breath of magic." Pitch said softly, forcing his body to stand up and approach the boy. His fingers ran through white locks of hair with all the gentleness he could gather, watching as Jack relaxed more and more under his touch. "Maybe his spirit still lingers at that cave. Maybe it had escaped its prison and became you through the centuries. It doesn't change who you are now, and you're my _good for nothing_ ward."

The strangled noise that escaped Jack's lips almost sounded like a giggle.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	60. Video

**_Hello dearies! I'm sorry for the really short chapter but I just needed a break from the long ones and oh well it was quite refreshing to write this one. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do, though! Now I'll try to focus on rewriting the old chapters and gathering ideas for new ones. If you have requests, let me know!_** ** _Oh, I've just posted a new story too~ It'd be nice if you guys could check it out some time and maybe leave a review, teehee. The story is 'Layers of Fear' and it's based on a video game with the same name. It's a human!AU and you can find it on this link:_** /s/12007910/1/Layers-of-Fear

 _ **Thank you for your reviews, follows &favorites. It means a lot to me! You guys are great~!**_

 _ **PlaidOtaku:** Well according to William Joyce, when the Moon Clipper was destroyed Nightlight fell into a frozen lake and stayed there for a long time (time enough to lose all his memories and etc) and when he resurfaced he became Jack Frost blahblah. More Guardians coming, dun worry! And yes Jack is too curious not to go in there uvu **  
FrostedDragonHeart: Guardians being Guardians, nothing new here *coughs* thank you for your lovely review!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack finds a nice video on the internet. What could possibly be wrong about something with the title 'Don't hug me, I'm scared' after all?**_

* * *

 ** _60\. Video (2012)  
_** _Guardians_

Being older than that pathetic excuse of planet, Pitch Black had witnessed the birth and death of many things, and despite of being from a place that had been completely revolved around it, he had never been a huge fan of the human technology. In there it was rude, excessively big and noisy, always lacking the sweetness and delicacy of the Golden Age and never improving. Although it had changed slightly through the centuries, shrinking more and becoming less noisy each passing decade, it still didn't attract his attention for a long time. Until Jack Frost decided it was a good idea to bring home one of those... laptop things to show him _a video_ that Jamie insisted them to take a look.

"Come on, old man. It'll be fun." The boy pressed, laughing loudly at Pitch's exasperated sigh.

It was obvious he wouldn't have some peace of mind unless he sat down and watched that stupid video, and well maybe he wouldn't die of _boredom_ in only three minutes. Fortunately his hopes didn't deceive him this time. At first Pitch needed all his almost nonexistent patience to stay still with eyes focused on the bright little screen, wondering if strangling Jack would be worth of the silence treatment he'd get later. Just before his fingers got close enough to a little pale neck, the winter child screeched and moved an inch away from the laptop, gaping stupidily at the video still running and eyes wide in horror and disgust.

"Wh-what the fuck?! Oh God is it a heart?" The Boogeyman decided not to comment back at that, yet Jack didn't seem to even remember he was in the room. "It _is_ a heart! This is just- WHY ARE THERE **ORGANS** _IN THE FUCKING CAKE_?!"

When the video finally ended Pitch was laughing like a lunatic, barely noticing a horrified Jack staring at him.

"I think this thing just ruined my childhood."

"That's what you get..." The older spirit wiped a tear off the corner of his eye, not even trying to stop himself from laughing even louder than before as his eyes fell on Jack's disgusted expression. "For listening to an eleven years old. But you were right, love. That was fun."

"I **_hate_** you."

* * *

 _ **Poor Jack! XD**_

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	61. Sing

**_Hello again, dearies! It's 1am and the idea just popped on my mind and oh well I'm not really ready to go back to long chapters right now. My brain refuses to work *sigh* However, I was watching_** _Into the Woods_ ** _again and I just remembered Chris Pine voiced Jack and I really couldn't help myself. Jack singing 'Agony' is just too much to ignore. Anyway, thank you for your reviews! I just wanted to ask you guys a little favor *coughs* If you have time to check on my new story and maybe leave a review in there it'd be really really nice. That story is bugging me up to be written but I don't feel like I've got enough readers and oh well. Just saying tho *shrugs*_**

 ** _FrostedDragonHeart:_** _Jack was so horrified the poor thing XD and well Pitch deserves the little victories sometimes, he does have to endure Jack's pranks and all his things._ ** _  
PlaidOtaku:_** _Oh well it seems to be new information about Nightlight I don't think many people knows about it. *shrugs* DHMIS is just ugh I'm pretty sure Pitch has a finger on it because it can't be human ;v;_

 ** _If you guys have any requests, headcanons, etc let me know!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: In which Pitch remembers why Jack shouldn't hang out with Phaethon too much. Not that they'd ever stop, of course._**

* * *

 ** _61\. Sing (1988)  
_** _Lightbringer_

He loved Jack with all his darkened heart, he truly did, and that was the only reason why it was getting more and more difficult _not to_ strangle the boy into unconsciousness, as pleasant as it sounded right now. Would he never learn? After all those years together, Pitch should know better than allow **Jack Frost** to spend more than a few hours with **Phaethon**. Not that he didn't trust the spirit of misfortune to keep his precious ward safe after everything they've been through the past decades, for they had gotten really close and it'd be easier to steal time from Father Time himself than someone hurt Jack under Phaethon's watch. Unfortunately the fallen star always got terrible ideas during their little rendezvous and it always ended up with a very pissed Boogeyman. He had really hoped things would be different this time, because the star had promised they'd simply see the lights around Broadway. There was a big show tonight and everything would be lighten up and Jack had insisted so much that the Nightmare King shooed him off without a second thought, even if he knew he'd regret it sooner than later.

He was never wrong.

"CAN YOU JUST _SHUT UP_?!" He roared for the thousandth time, trying to sound as terrifying and furious as he could, yet Jack's voice got a pitch higher and louder, still singing that stupid, enraging song between giggles. For darkness' sake, he **would** strangle the child really slowly. Alas stars were on the child's side tonight, for Jack had barred himself inside his room, freezing the door and not leaving any spaces for Pitch to get in and do as he was planning, no matter what he tried. The Boogeyman let a groan of rage and frustration escape his lips. "I swear I'll _skin you_ alive once I get in there!"

The only response he got was an even louder screech that barely resembled a human voice.  
Jack shouldn't really try to sing ever again. Maybe Pitch could _help him_ with that.

"Leave the boy alone, Pitch." Phaethon said softly, chuckling and finally stepping out of the shadow he had been hiding until now. Bloody traitor... "The more you yell, more he'll torment you. You should know that by now. Besides... he's quite happy right now. Let him be."

It was more than enough to placate Pitch's anger. The younger spirit was right, as always. It had been some time since Jack sounded so happy, so carefree and it'd be a terrible mistake to take it away. The child _needed_ it. Something seemed to calm down within his chest at the realization and he took a deep breath, trying to ignore Jack's loud and high-pitched voice singing the same verse again and again. Oh well... the things he endured for love. Phaethon's crimson eyes shone a little brighter, a little more satisfied than before, and he moved close enough to rest a cold hand on the Nightmare King's shoulder.

"I've got some stellar tea. Would you mind to join me?"

"How in the void's name you got stellar tea? No, _forget it_."

The smirk that creeped up on the star's lips had been answer enough.  
He really didn't need to know about the gruesome details.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	62. Friendship

**_Hello my sweet doves! I'm really sorry for the short chapters but oh well they're so great to write ;v; but thank you for being so patient with me, it means a lot! Thanks for your sweet reviews as well! And for those who are (I think you are, at least) curious about Phaethon's appearance before his fall, I've posted something on Tumblr so you can take a look at it~_**

 ** _And I'll also put my OCs details on my profile on the next days, but I'll let you know when it's ready. Now I was wondering if I should write a special chapter for them or maybe just leave it on my profile without a real story. It's up to you, so let me know what you prefer!_**

 ** _Ravenna Frost:_** _Best dysfunctional family ever, yep yep. Momma Lunny approves very much._ ** _  
Guest:_** _Thank you for being a sweet and leaving such a lovely review! uvu Jack is such a little imp I don't know how Pitch endures him for this long XD_

 ** _If you have any request, headcanons, etc let me know! Or you can submit them on this story's Tumblr~ The link is_** _ahw-h tumblr com_

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: In which Jack makes another friend, and this is just great._**

* * *

 ** _62\. Friendship (1887)  
_** _Lightbringer_

If there was something he had _never_ expected was to sit on the top of a mountain with the spirit of Summer by his side, doing nothing but watch the stars yet he couldn't complain. Despite everything that had happened before between them, Jack couldn't bring himself to hate or fear Aurion after ten years of a simple, strange friendship. It felt good to be around other seasonal spirits without the dread of another beating, another session of painful torture. They were his family of some sort, just like Pitch had the Dark Circle (but he doubted that a bunch of dark spirits would make a real, welcoming family). A soft chuckle escaped his lips at Aurion's flabbergasted expression as a snowflake fell on the tip of his nose and stayed there for some seconds before finally melting away, and soon they were laughing together at their childish silliness.

"Have you ever imagined we could get along like this?" The winter child asked softly, forcing himself not to pay attention at the flash of hurt and sadness that crossed Summer's golden eyes. "Because I haven't. I've... talked to him, you know? That spell you taught me worked. I asked him about Frosti and the others." Aurion only made a humming noise in response, moving softly to adjust Jack's hair under his chin as the boy rested his head against his shoulder. "They weren't... evil, at first. They were good people, they really cared but... It's _hard_ to be cold all the time."

"Did Winter freeze their hearts?" The older spirit sounded more curious than Jack had ever heard him, and it just made the boy snuggle against the warm body to get more comfortable, nodding at the question. "So things could've been different if the Seasons stayed together as we're supposed to be. We could've helped Jökul, and the Queen and Old Man..."

"It's not your fault."

Whatever Aurion would retort got lost the moment the winter child spotted a shooting star, giggling and pointing at it quickly. It was painfully saddening to remember almost every star they could glimpse on the sky was already dead, yet watching a shooting star was still a beautiful sight he'd never get tired to see. A sudden warmth on his back made him squeak softly until he just realized it was just his fellow seasonal moving to sit behind him, arms wrapped around his thin body, and Jack relaxed. There was no need to be scared anymore, even if he still reacted at the alien sensation everytime Aurion got too close. What once had been a painful heat had become a soothing, pleasant touch against his forever cold skin. It felt like Pitch's embrace, welcoming and _oh so needed_. He sighed happily, eyes focused on the starry sky once more, nestling himself against Summer's chest.

"Have you ever heard about _Anam Cara_ , Snowy?" Jack snorted at the stupid nickname, watching as his frost creeped up Aurion's arms until the older spirit shuddered and forced it to melt. "Gods help me, I'm trying to be serious here. However..." He cleared his throat, hesitating for a mere moment before resting his chin on Winter's shoulder. " _Anam Cara_ is a celtic expression that means 'soulmate', or 'soul friend'. Someone that completes you in a way no one else could even understand. It's something like the truest friendship you'll ever have in your life."

"Oh." The winter child said quietly, watching as Aurion entwined their fingers and enjoying the sudden warmth brushing off the frost from his skin. "I always thought a soulmate was some kind of romantic thing."

"Your soulmate can be anyone, in fact. A parent, a sibling, a lover or a simple friend. It's not about physical love, it's more... spiritual. When you find your Anam Cara, your very soul feels the bound between you and them." Jack hummed gently, not really sure why they were having that kind of conversation yet it was better than nothing. "We both are special, you know? Winter and Summer are like... another soul locked within our own. It means we can have two _Anam Cara_ out there. One for the seasons, and one for ourselves."

"And you're telling me all of this because..."

"Because it'd be better if you knew Winter has already found his soulmate, a long time ago. Things didn't work well back then." Aurion replied, squeezing the smaller fingers between his gently, and just in that moment realization hit Jack with the force of a wild avalanche. He gasped softly, yet the spirit of summer didn't notice it. "I was wondering if you... you'd like to make it official. Someday. If you'd like to make it work."

A real friend. He could have a real friend, **at last**. That very thought made his body shudder in childish happiness, and Jack couldn't help but nod quickly, trying to hide the wide smile dancing on his lips.

It didn't work, but he couldn't care less.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	63. Winter

_**Hellooooo again, dearies! Wow my birthday is just in two days and ugh I should be excited but I'm not? However, welcome to another chapter and I hope you enjoy it because I do~ I missed having Winter around and oh well I couldn't resist bringing him into this timeline. From now on things can go all happy-happy oooor we can have some drama before. Your choice, really! So let me know what you guys wanna see. And thank you for all the sweet reviews, they make me really happy!**_

 _ **HmmNotMe:** Thanks! I have no idea where you can read the books for free but you can buy them on Amazon. It's really cheap~ **  
Ravenna Frost:** Aurion will be showing up a lot more because he's just too sweet to be left out uvu and I like it you approve my ideas hehehe **  
Guest/Jane:** Hello again sweetie! You don't need to apologize, really. I'm just glad you keep coming back to read my story, it means a lot to me ;v; thank you for being such a lovely person! **  
PlaidOtaku:** Jack enjoys touching if he trusts the person~ Aurion will probably show up during the Guardians timeline too. **  
FrostedDragonHeart:** Anam Cara is my favorite concept of soulmates and ugh I couldn't not use it ;v; and thank **you** for being so sweet!_

 _ **If you guys have any requests, ideas, headcanons etc please let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Bunnymund wonders why they're still there. They should just go home at once.**_

* * *

 _ **63\. Winter (2025)  
**_ _Welcome Home_

For the thousandth time Bunnymund forced himself to stare only at the warm cup on his hands and ignore the happy chattering coming from the table right in front of his own. For the thousandth time he thanked Mother Nature and her magic keeping him trapped into that human body, so his once sensitive ears wouldn't get lost in the familiarity of that voice. Why were they still in that blasted town when they had already found Jack? It was doing them no good at all. The kit had another life, gentler memories and a new family (even if said family included an excuse of Boogeyman and a fallen star). He didn't need them anymore, for they weren't there for him when he truly needed their help. Shame washed over him before he had enough time to banish it away from his senses, squeezing his heart with its poisonous roots.

He was the Guardian of Hope, and he had given up on Jack Frost without even hesitate his actions. He had abandoned a child in need twice in less than three days, and it was a surprise to see Man in Moon had yet to stripe the title out of him, because there was no way in that entire universe someone would be stupid enough to keep calling him as such. He didn't deserve the title. He didn't deserve to be a Guardian, no matter what the others said nor how much they tried to lift his spirits. He sighed, pressing the palms against the warm cup only to force his thoughts into something else. It didn't matter if he regretted what he had done, it didn't matter if he wanted to grab Jack and beg for his forgiveness. They meant nothing more to the child - if they ever meant something before.

"Johann!"

Aster barely held the urge to smack himself in the moment his eyes left the forgotten coffee to stare at the happy boy. They should simply leave. There was nothing for them in there anymore, yet Tooth wanted to make sure Jack was perfectly safe around Pitch - Kozmotis, he should remember - and Mother Nature refused to leave just now before finding something, someone she had been looking for. So they kept torturing him, bringing him to face his most terrible mistake, a mistake he couldn't fix no matter how hard he tried. And then his mouth fell agape as he payed enough attention to the boy standing close to Jack and finally noticed a shocking, breathtaking reality.

They were _identical_. Despite the newcomer having piercing blue eyes that made him wonder who really was their lost winter child, they were an exact mirror image of each other. The goofy smile, the happy sparkle on their eyes... Bunnymund never felt or cared about the sudden warmth on his fingers as he forced his hands on the fragile cup with enough strength to break it. He knew he was staring, stupidily trying to recover his breath yet his mind refused to work and help him to make the situation less humiliating. Two pair of eyes, so different and so similar at the same time, focused on his face. There was no recognition at all and maybe that was what hurt the most. He had really hoped that something had been saved, any piece of memory that would make things less... painful to accept Jack was gone.

"You okay, sir?"

They had moved closer before the Guardian could comprehend the words, warm hands that hadn't belong to Jack before touching his arm and shoulder gently. He shuddered, trying to find something to say - anything at all so they'd simply stop touching him and oh gods he missed the winter child's cold fingers freezing his fur more than anything else. That thing - _no they were children not things he should remember that_ \- those children were anything but their Jack, the only immortal child on that blasted planet. Why did they abandon him so easily? Why haven't they fight harder, why didn't they look deeper into the beast's lair? Another voice echoed closely, strange yet too familiar to be ignored, and the unwanted warmth on his body disappeared as the twin creatures left the diner quickly, giggling and whispering to each other in rushed excitement. Silver eyes that seemed to see past his body came into view and once more Bunnymund felt his breath painfully stuck on his throat.

Pitch. And he _knew_.

Before the Pooka could say something, he had already slipped into the seat in front of his. For a long moment they simply stared at each other, and Aster took those silent minutes to recollect himself and take a deep breath, allowing his heart to calm down as he really looked at Pitch. That was the first time they had gotten close enough and just now the Guardian in disguise noticed how... human and powerless the Boogeyman looked. As if he wasn't the Nightmare King anymore, as if he was... nothing more than a human. The realization felt bitter on his tongue, for he couldn't believe it. How could a creature they had fought for so long become... a man? Kozmotis Pitchiner didn't exist anymore, Sandy had said. The Fearlings had consumed his humanity completely during the centuries, leaving only the Boogeyman behind. There was nothing to be saved from the man under the darkness.

So _how_ could he be staring at the Great General again?

"You must leave." The Pooka blinked a few times, forcing himself to focus on whatever Pitch was talking about. His tone wasn't friendly nor meaningful. It lacked any loathing and anger from before, yet it was more than obvious he wasn't pleased to have Bunnymund there. "Unless you want to keep destroying other people's happiness over and over."

"I... You-" His tongue felt sore and strange on his mouth and for the first time in a long time he decided not to lose his temper around that _creature_. "You caused this. It's your fault Jack is stuck on this forsaken place with no memories..."

"And he surely had the sweetest memories to keep. Three hundred years of loneliness had been _extremely pleasant_ , I suppose." Pitch's voice was filled with venom now, the silver in his eyes betraying the hatred he tried so hard to hide. "And of course, let's not forget about those years you left him down there with nothing but Fearlings and nightmares. **Wonderful** memories, indeed."

Bunnymund retreated as if he had been slapped, guilt and shame hitting his chest at full force again. He could deny that as much as he wanted yet deep inside he knew Pitch was right. If he had the chance to leap over a fresh start, over a new life... he knew he'd never hesitate in taking that chance. How had he expected Jack to do something different? The boy had been through so much in so little time. A _child_ they had mistaken so many times... How did he _dare_ call himself a Guardian of Childhood still? He who had hurt Jack the most through the years, he who had pushed the child away on that fatidic Easter. He who had been the first to give up on the search.

He didn't **deserve** to be a guardian of children.

"Please..." Pitch sounded so tired, so hopeless... Their eyes met once more and for a second he looked as old as the countless years he carried on his soul. For a second he looked _so scared_. The once master of fears was scared for Jack, for the troubled future, for what would happen if the Guardians didn't listen to him again. "Just leave us. You've done _enough_ , don't you think?"

He swallowed back the bitter retort that tasted like poison, burning his throat. He _had_ done enough to Jack, and he **wanted** to leave them alone. He wanted to trust that cruel beast in disguise, he wanted to believe Pitch would keep the winter child safe and happy but every inch of his human body fought against his logic. The Boogeyman lived to destroy children's happiness, and they... the Guardians of Childhood were supposed to guard them. When exactly did things go so wrong, so upside down? When did he start living in a world where the Nightmare King was a better guardian than the damned Easter Bunny, the keeper of Hope? His mind refused to let him remember, and Aster wasn't sure if he really wanted to.

"Why is there... two of him?" He finally found his voice once more, yet it sounded nothing like his own. It was so broken and soft that for a moment he doubted he was the one talking. Pitch hesitated in that second as well, silver eyes narrowing as if he hadn't been expecting such clear signal of weakness. "Did your spell go wrong or something?"

"No, the spell worked perfectly. However, someone decided to join us during the trip." The former dark spirit sighed softly, taking a long second to stare out of the window. Aster followed his gaze over the shoulder, and again panic and pure shame invaded his body. Jack looked so... happy, so full of life in a way the Pooka had never seen before. And although they couldn't hear him nor his mirrored companion it was obvious they were having too much fun playing on the falling snowflakes to care about the adults staring at them. "He's the reason Emily-Jane won't leave yet."

"...what did you do, Pitch?"

" _I did nothing_." Pitch barked coldly, relaxing as he noticed how Bunnymund flinched at his tone. "It was Winter that simply clung at Jack and didn't let go. I couldn't separate them, so..." He pointed at the twins outside. "They're happy. The seasons are still in place and everything is running smooth outside here. I'm **begging** you, Aster. Leave us alone."

And then there were a couple of loud giggles echoing in the diner all of sudden and stopping him from replying. The children had reached the table before his mind could comprehend it, talking too fast and smiling too much _at Pitch_. Bunnymund felt small, a stranger that had invaded someone's private life and was completely unwanted in there. Once more he wondered why they were still in that town when there was nothing nor no one waiting for them. They should just leave and move on, no matter how much it'd hurt. They shouldn't be so... selfish, and as much as Pitch Black didn't deserve an inch of that happiness, it gave them no right to take it from Jack and his 'new brother'.

He left the diner before someone could notice his absence, wondering if his fellow Guardians would be too mad at him if he simply moved back to his Warren without a warning. Not that he cared about it at all.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	64. Birthday

_**Hello again, dearies! This is a quick, short chapter because I'm a rush this week aaaand it's my birthday so yeah, I know it's a lame chapter but I couldn't help myself. I was really planning to write a piece of chapter to all the timelines buuuut... Well, another chapter to add to my list of "chapters to edit later" *sigh* anyway, thanks for your reviews, it means a lot!**_

 _ **Aaaand since it seemed no one read my notes last chapter, I'll be asking here again hehe should I put some drama/action into Welcome Home timeline or simply focus on the happy things? It's up to you, so let me know what you prefer!**_

 _ **Ravenna Frost:** Winter is a cutie that will appear some more because I love him so much uvu_

 _ **If you guys have any request, headcanons, etc let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Pitch forgets something.**_

* * *

 _ **64\. Birthday (1877)  
**_ _Lightbringer_

It was always a strange sight to catch Jack Frost sulking over something, for it seldom happened and Pitch simply didn't know how to deal with that. The child was a ball of pure energy, constantly moving around without a care of what he'd find on his way. However, this time it seemed he had found something he didn't enjoy at all and the Nightmare King couldn't put a finger on what was wrong with the boy. It wasn't fear nor anger, and Pitch was getting really frustrated for not knowing what was bothering his precious snowflake that much. Something stirred on the back of his mind and he focused on that strange feeling for a moment, wondering what it could be. Did he forget anything?

No...

Oh.

He _did_.

An annoyed growl escaped his lips as he smacked himself for his stupidity, not so surprised that Jack had been in a foul mood for all day. Well the boy should be used to that by now! How could he expect the Boogeyman to remember his birthday so easily? Pitch couldn't even recall the day he had been born, let alone keep other people's dates in mind. Unfortunately he didn't have much time to dwell on that. Perhaps it wouldn't take him too long to find Jack some present and cheer the child up. When did he exactly start caring about those stupid, little details? He couldn't remember very well, but he was sure it had been some time after Ponos' incident. Or maybe a few years before that. He sighed.

"I'm _too old_ for this..."

* * *

"Happy birthday, snowflake." His voice felt thick and weird on his throat, yet it seemed to matter nothing at all. Jack bolted up at the sudden proximity and turned to face the Nightmare King, eyes wide in surprise and barely contained excitement. Cold fingers trembled softly against the little package and for a second Pitch wondered if it'd be enough to satisfy that devilish imp, not that he should really worry about it. The way Jack was gaping at his gift was more than enough to tell what he was thinking. "It seems you enjoy it."

"I-it's great, Pitch!" The winter child finally smiled, looking so happy and so relieved that the Boogeyman remembered his birthday... A pang of guilt rushed through his chest and Pitch forced a cough fit not to give away his embarrassment. Fortunately Jack didn't even notice it, too focused on placing the necklace on himself to care about anything else, eyes never leaving the colorful pendant resting against his shirt. "Is it stardust?"

"Yes. Since you spent your last birthday with those..." Pitch needed a second to swallow back the bitter hatred that bubbled up with throat at the mention of the Guardians, yet he shouldn't let those excuse of spirits ruin Jack's day. "... _Guardians_ , I thought you deserved something really special this year."

The boy's smile grew wider than it should be possible, and before the Nightmare King could even think about what was going on cold arms got wrapped around his torso in a firm, freezing hug. For no more than a moment he stiffened, every inch of his cursed body fighting against the gentle feelings trying to make their way into his cold heart yet he simply allowed them settle in there comfortably. Jack was his precious son and he shouldn't deny that simple fact. At least his human soul, as small and annoying as it was, knew it.

"Thanks, papa."

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	65. Author's Note (2): Important

_**Author's Note  
** (I promise I'll be quick) **  
**_

Hello, my dearies. I really didn't think I'd be posting one of these again buuut the thing is, I'm really really uncomfortable with something that's happening. It's been a while since I noticed people started unfollowing &unfavoriting this story. Either it's because they deactivated their accounts or for another reasons, I'd like to know the reasons for not following the story anymore.

This is not about numbers. It's never been. I have wonderful readers around here and I couldn't be more grateful for you guys that keep coming back, you have no idea how much it means to me. It's about me and my writing. If people are unhappy with what I'm writing, I want to know what I'm doing wrong so _**please**_ , please let me know what's _bothering_ you. Give me your ideas, your headcanons, your criticisms or suggestions, give me anything at all. Post them as a review, send me a PM, submit them on my Tumblr but please, do it. I **need** them. I want to get better, I want to write more chapters that are worth of your time.

I won't be putting this story into a hiatus like last time, but I'll be focusing on updating the previous chapters for some time.

And before I finish it, it'd be great if you guys can take a minute to answer the followings questions:

\- Should I write backstories (not simple profiles but real whole chapters only for them) for my OCs? If so, should I create a new story or simply post them on Tumblr?  
\- Which is your favorite timeline, and why?  
\- What should I improve on the chapters/my writing?

Again, a huge thanks for all my readers&followers and a tight hug to everyone who keeps reviewing this story.  
You guys are great, and your lovely words always made me feel better. Thank you.

P.S.: I probably should rename this story to 'A Thousand Words' because seriously, I do love it so much to stop on only a hundred. Tell me what you think, tho!


	66. Curse

**_I knew I had some self control once, but I think I lost it fifty chapters ago. Oh well. *sighs*_**

 ** _Hello again, my dearies! First of all, a huge thank you for your support on the last chapter. It means much more to me than you believe, and I can't be grateful enough for it. A shoutsout for the wonderful_** _FrostedDragonHeart_ ** _. Thank you. Thank you so much. And a big hug for Ravenna Frost, Rey129 & PlaidOtaku. Your reviews will help A LOT. And thanks for everyone following&favoriting the story, you guys are great and I love you._**

 ** _Any requests, headcanons, ideas etc please let me know! I'll try to write them ASAP._**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: In which Bunnymund pays Jack a visit. Why is that child always late for a meeting?_**

* * *

 ** _66\. Curse (2016)  
_** _Guardians_

Jumping into dark holes had become a normal routine on his life for longer than he cared to remember, yet it didn't mean he felt comfortable enough to slip into the dark lair's entrance without a good breath filled with false courage. He knew there was no reason to fear the Boogeyman anymore ( _more than they were supposed to, after all_ ) but they had suffered just too much before to simply turn a blind eye to what Pitch had done. Bunnymund had forgiven him, for Winter had opened his eyes to the truth lying under countless frames of darkness and hatred, yet it didn't mean he would simply forget the blood, the fire, the screams of his dying people- And it wasn't the right moment to think about that. The Pooka shuddered, forcing the memories and fear deeper into his mind as shadows clung at his fur and pulled him into their corrupted arms.

Why was he _always_ the one to go after that stupid excuse of a Guardian called Jack Frost when the boy was just too late for a meeting? North complained that his tunnels were faster ( _only on convenient times, that bloody lunatic..._ ) and Tooth and Sandy were simply too busy to do it. So he had no choice but do what his fellow Guardians asked and let himself be eaten alive by a bunch of hungry Fearlings and monstrous beasts disguised as sandy mares. A strangled laughter escaped his lips. _You're such a drama queen_ , Jack's voice seemed to echo around him. Well the boy wasn't wrong now, was he? The shadows did no more than touch him for long moments before moving back to their spot, whispering softly and luring him deeper and deeper into the dark palace. The Nightmares were hidden here and there, barely paying him any attention as he passed by.

And then there was something strong and cold hitting his back and Bunnymund turned quickly, ready to gather his boomerangs if necessary but soon he simply laughed it off, tapping the mare's nose. Nightshade neighed gently and sniffled some sand over his paw in response, yet she seemed rather pleased with his presence in there. It was always a surprise to see how much a dark creature could be so sweet and docile, and everytime he'd remind himself that she wasn't a simply Nightmare like the others. She belonged to Jack, the most _warm_ winter spirit he had ever met. Why should he expect her to be any different from her master?

"D'ya know where's dat ankle-bitah', sheila?"

The mare moved her head against his paw before turning to trot away and into a dark corridor, not even waiting for Bunnymund to follow. Hesitation coursed through his body for a mere moment and he shoved it away, hopping after the sandy creature as fast as he could, allowing himself not to be scared of the dark ( _just once just now_ ) for the first time in a long time even if he knew it was completely stupid. Fortunately he had no time to dwell on that, for sooner than he expected Nightshade disappeared into a door and he followed close, finding himself in a library that was bigger than any other he had seen before on his entire life yet the countless books and scrolls adorning every inch of the walls claimed his attention for no longer than a second. Emerald eyes fell on the center of the giant room.

Pitch Black seemed half asleep on an old rocking chair, gentle humming noises escaping his throat and echoing through the giant library, his expression so soft and relaxed that for a second the Pooka wondered if he was really staring at _the Boogeyman_ himself. Never before he had seen the Nightmare King with his guard down, ignoring his presence, and that was a sight Aster was sure he'd never witness again in his life ( _unless he had a death wish because there was no way on high heavens Pitch would allow him to invade his privacy so openly again_ ). Another sound, almost too soft to be real, made his long ears twitch and just in that moment he noticed the small bundle of white and blue resting on Pitch's chest. It was a **toddler** , cooing happily at the wordless lullaby vibrating under his little body.

The Pooka stepped closer, despite every inch of his body begging him to stay away from that dark spirit. He just needed to understand why there was such a small child nestled against the Boogeyman, why that innocent little thing seemed so happy- and shock made him lose his breath for a second or two. It wasn't a simple human child as he had believed. It was Jack Frost.

But how- it couldn't be possible. It shouldn't.

"Your eyes are about to fall out of their sockets."

Bunnymund gasped at Pitch's sudden voice, stepping away and forcing air back into his lungs, ready to run away if he needed to ( _but he wouldn't need to because Pitch had changed and yet his stupid logic failed to believe in that no matter what he tried_ ). Unfortunately he sounded louder than necessary, and soon the toddler ( _Jack how can it be Jack Frost wasn't a bloody toddler why was everything always so wrong down there?_ ) began to fuss and sob, frost spreading through the Boogeyman's clothes. An exasperated sigh escape ashen lips, trained hands quickly adjusting the baby on his chest and whispering gentle words until Jack finally calmed down, sucking on a little thumb.

It would be an adorable sight if Aster wasn't about to freak out over the fact that _Jack Frost was a baby_.

"If you'll keep staring, can you at least **be quiet**?"

"W-wh..what deh hell happ'ned to 'im?" The Pooka barely noticed how his voice lowered, eyes still focused on the toddler. His mind couldn't really comprehend what could have happened and some part of him wasn't sure if he wanted to know. And for the way Pitch was acting over the whole thing it was obvious that was a 'common' situation. The Boogeyman wasn't even worried! "H-he's a.."

"Your powers of observation never fails to impress me." Pitch replied, sarcasm almost dripping out of his lips as he adjusted himself better on the rocking chair, keeping Jack safe against his chest. "To answer your question, some decades ago Jack decided it'd be _really funny_ to play a trick on Father Time. As you can see, it didn't end up as he planned. Chrono wasn't in a good mood that day and he cursed the boy to become this-" He gently nudged the toddler's cheek, making him giggle. "For a week every year. It'll last for... a century or two."

"What did deh ankle-bitah' do to Time? It's rare for him to be so 'arsh on a kit."

"He tried to steal a Time Gem." The Boogeyman deadpanned, and Bunnymund barely held the urge to growl in sudden annoyance. Trying to steal from Father Time was impressively **stupid** , even for Jack Frost. _Especially_ for Jack, who was very intelligent despite the appearances and endless tricks and pranks. Another sweet giggle echoed and once more the Guardian caught himself staring at the frost toddler, noticing how the baby seemed to be distracted by a dark tendril of shadow dancing near his face - and _too close_ to little hands. Pitch surely noticed the danger and quickly pulled Jack away from the Fearling-to-be, sighing. "Is there anything else you need to do here?"

"I only came to get Frostbite fer a meetin' but..." He gestured at the fussing baby, wondering _how_ Pitch could stay so calm around such an agitated, noisy thing that was a baby Jack. "Ya need a hand?"

"I appreciate the offer, but no. Besides, I think you're needed somewhere else."

Oh right, the Guardian meeting. A meeting he was supposed to go back with a mischievous winter spirit, not a real ankle-bitter.  
Well he could think of a good excuse on his way back to the Pole.

* * *

 _ **This will probably become an arc. What do you guys think?**_

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	67. Dance

**_*screeches quietly because bloody stars we're at almost 260 reviews* Hello dearies! Just dropping a short chapter here because I'm preparing something big and quite dark for this timeline because oh well, you wanted some drama on it. Blame yourselves now._**

 ** _And c_** ** _oncerning the previous chapter, it seems you all loved baby!Jack so this will be an arc! Yay! Let me know what kind of situations you'd like to see cute lil' Frost and papa!Pitch and I shall write them soon (I promise)_**

 ** _And thank you, sweet Jane (guest)! All your requests have been gathered and I'll start working on them soon enough. Thank you for your lovely words, it means a lot to me!_** ** _And thank you everyone for your reviews, follows &favorites. You guys are great! _****_Any requests, ideas, headcanons, etc you can let me know!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: Just a cute filler. Go on._**

* * *

 ** _67\. Dance (2017)  
_** _Welcome Home_

No matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't get used to that strange, _sometimes_ peaceful domestic life he had put himself into. He had never truly had it back on the glorious days of the Golden Age, and truth to be told, Pitch Black had **not** beena creature made for such a pacific existence. Even his little time with Jack Frost had been troubled and ended up in an excessive dramatic way. A sigh escaped his lips as he placed the last mug on its proper place, his leg sending an annoying, painful tug up his tired muscles. He knew he still shouldn't stand up for long periods, he knew he should simply rest until all his strength finally came back and Phillip would _kill him_ if something happened but he couldn't bring himself to ignore the three-days-old dishes that had piled up on his sink anymore. It was becoming quite an awful sight.

That, and they were running out of clean plates to use.

A joyful screech echoed from the living room, snapping Kozmotis back to reality. _Their_ new reality, better and brighter than anything he had ever dreamed about before. If he had ever dreamed once during his long, cruel existence as the terrifying Pitch Black. Not that it really mattered. A gentle smile curled on his lips as he limped back to the room, watching in pure amusement as **his** ( _and it felt sweet and delightful on his tongue_ ) twin children twirled and moved around the place in a pathetic imitation of a dance. Jack was always the loudest, singing and leading the dance with what would be a mastered perfection if he wasn't putting so much effort in making a fool of himself. And Johann, stars bless that wonderful soul, simply laughed at his brother's shenanigans and allowed himself to be played with, following that strange dance as much as he could.

And Kozmotis wondered, for the first time in those three long months, how couldn't he have noticed how much he missed those little moments. He had truly missed the simplicity, the comfort, the happiness... He wished it could last forever.

Well _it would_. They were far too deep into that spell to go back now, yet his rational mind simply forgot that little fact. Not that he'd really bother correcting himself in that moment.

"Hey, papa!" Another childish screech forced him to rush back from his thoughts and stare at the twins that had become aware of his presence. Jack's smile was too wide and too goofy and he knew it meant the boy wanted something - and he couldn't help the sigh that tore from his lips once more because he wasn't in the mood to enter in any game right now. His leg throbbed, agreeing with his sullen mind. "Come join us! You can play the violin!"

Well he should've seen that one coming.

"It'd be nice, father." Johann added quietly before Kozmotis could even reply, the sweetest of smiles adorning his face and in that right moment the older man knew he had simply lost. _Stars help him_.

"Fine."

He had **wanted** that life, after all.

* * *

 _ **Little fun fact:** Kozmotis had given up on cleaning the house (and yelling at the twins about their mess) after the second week in their new life. Now he simply let things pile up until the boys realize they're out of clean clothes (which happend more often than he cares to count)_

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	68. Wakening

_**AHOY! Before I start this chapters, two little warnings. First, I've FINALLY updated chapter 6 so please go back and take a look at it. I'm sorry for taking too long to update old chapters but I must say, this story is hard (a bit too hard sometimes) to write. I hope the new update pleases you guys.**_

 _ **The second thing is A CHALLENGE! YAY! It's quite obvious that I've placed some references around the story buuut I decided to make something special and I'd love to see you guys participating! The challenge is simple: bring me every reference & easter egg you find around the story (this chapter included) and the reader with most points wins either a special chapter or an one-shot of their choice. I just need a mental break and this will help.**_

 _ **And Jane had asked me why the timeline** Lightbringer **is called that. I'm sorry I didn't answer you last time but it slipped from my mind. All I can say is you'll understand soon enough why! :)**_

 _ **Thank you for all the reviews! It means a lot to me, guys! I hope you'll all participate in my little challenge!**_

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: In which having waking up in a new life is hard._**

* * *

 ** _68\. Wakening (2017)  
_** _Welcome Home_

The first thing he noticed when he finally opened his eyes was the pain coursing through his body with overwhelming pressure, eating his insides and boiling the blood under his skin. His voice betrayed him, dying on his throat the moment he parted his lips to scream and plead for it to stop ( _just stop I can't take it anymore please make it st-_ ), for someone to come and help him. Memories flodded in his mind, twirling and twisting and colliding until everything fell into its right place, until there was nothing to feel but his heart beating too fast against his ribcage. Pain subdued slowly, gently as a mother's touch ( _and that was a pretty ridiculous thought because_ _ **he**_ _couldn't even remember what a mother's touch was supposed to feel like_ ) until it was nothing more but an annoying throbbing on his head, threatening to turn into a horrid migraine sooner than later. Not that it really mattered in that moment.

A white roof greeted his exhausted sight when he opened his eyes again, wondering when he had closed them before ( _maybe during his little attack, as if he really cared about something so trivial_ ). He took a moment to check his surroundings, gathering everything his confused mind could register. He was laying helplessly on the cold floor of a white bedroom. _His_ bedroom... was it right? Some part of his stupid head wanted to refuse it, yelling against all the **white white white** because he wasn't mean for so much light. It _should_ feel wrong, yet he didn't find enough strength to care in that moment. Right now he should stop whining. He should just stand up and look for something... no, he should look for _someone important_.

Something in his mind clicked and his body jolted up before he could even stop himself from moving, the pain running wild through his entire right leg and spreading up his spine, forcing him to lay back again to catch his breath and pull himself together. There was too much to remember, too many voices and memories and lives that shouldn't exist anymore... With a shaking, harsh sigh he closed his eyes, finally finding comfort and direction on the sweet darkness. It felt so familiar, so needed yet so distant at the same time... _Focus_ , it whispered on his ear. _You need to focus._ And focus he did, allowing the darkness to guide him through the countless pieces of memories out of place, searching for something he knew it was there but couldn't quite glimpse.

 _There_.

He remembered the spell. It _had_ worked, or else he wouldn't be in such a bright room like that one. Even so there was something still bothering him, something that was more important than his mind allowed him to remember in that moment. He remembered the pain of the Fearlings and corruption being stripped from his body, the agony of his very center wasting away until there was nothing left but a fresh heart that still needed to learn how to work properly. Hell the mere thought of having a beating heart on his chest was just... _overwhelming_. After a few minutes he finally regained some control over his body and pushed himself up, ignoring the painful tug on his leg. There was something still missing...

No, that wasn't quite right.  
 **Someone** was missing.

Yet there was still too many voices and memories battling on his head, and he really had no idea of how he could control them. It was difficult and agonizing and it made him nauseous and dizzy. Trembling fingers grabbed the closest wall and stayed there, keeping his body steady until the shakiness disappeared from his limbs ( _which took longer than it should be enough but he didn't dare to open his mouth to complain_ ). With enough strength to keep himself still without falling on his face, he decided to focus on the countless memories invading his mind. There was the Great General, the family he had lost, the battles he had battled. It felt bittersweet and unnecessary, images and feelings that shouldn't exist on his memories anymore but were still there. He quickly shoved them away because they didn't matter and there was much more he needed to remember. Pitch Black came next, all the blood and madness and **_rage rage rage_** making him want to puke, even if he knew he shouldn't feel that way because _he_ had been the one that did all those terrible, hideous things. He turned those memories away as quickly as he had ignored the General's, swallowing back the bile and disgust that got stuck on his throat.

How could've he feel so... proud of what he had done? It was _despicable_.

Even so he decided to move on the lembrances, focusing on those newborn memories that had never belonged to him until now. It was a sweet life full of love and happiness and a family. He had **a family**. It was... simply _thrilling_. He knew that life, those memories were nothing but a trick, fake memories that were a result of the powerful spell but he couldn't care less. He decided to stuck with that splendid life, and without a second thought he shook Pitchiner and Pitch Black away, locking them in the depths of his mind. He knew he would remember everything eventually, but right now things were more than clear. Right now he needed to get out of that room and find an important person that wasn't there.

Why was he all alone?

"Jack?" The name came easily to his lips, and for the first time since that strange day began he allowed himself to fall on auto-pilot. His body seemed to answer to that new person he had become, so why should he hold it back? A wave of sharp pain ran up his knee as he stepped away from the secure wall, yet he simply pushed it aside. He could deal with that stupid leg later, much later. "Johann?"

He... _they_ should be there.

 _You can't take him!_ Another voice that wasn't his echoed in his mind, angry and loud and panicking. To whom did it belong...? He couldn't remember. _He's mine! You can't do it you can't please I don't want to be alone again Ineedtobewithhimpleaseplease_ _ **please**_ _-_ And then the phone started ringing too close to his side, startling him out of his mind, and he needed a moment to catch his breath before finally moving closer to that demonic thing. It kept ringing, louder and louder until he finally picked it up only to make it stop.

" _Mr. Holmes?_ " The surname that greeted him sounded familiar, pleasant even and just a second later he remembered that was supposed to be his name in that new life. Well he shouldn't be surprised at all. " _Mr. Holmes, are you there?_ "

"Yes."

" _I'm calling from the Bright Falls Sheriffs Station. Your boys have been found in the woods half an hour ago._ "

He had never noticed the moment the left the house and entered the car.

* * *

"I've called your father." Jack looked up at the officer for a long moment, trying to remember his name. Bryan? Brennan? Maybe it was Bruce... a soft whimper coming from the cold boy by his side caught his attention and soon the name trouble had been forgotten, replaced by an arm pulling the trembling body against his own. "I can take you boys to the hospital, if you want." Johann simply shook his head and hid his face on Jack's coat, whimpering against the soft fabric. "Well, I'll be on the next door if you need me."

And with that the man was gone, leaving the twin children behind. Jack allowed a sigh to escape his lips, resting his chin on his brother's hair, rubbing his back in soothing motions. Why had he been so stupid? He knew they shouldn't have gone to those parts of the woods, he knew it was dangerous and his father would _kill him_ once they stepped home. Worst of all, Johann had gotten hurt because of him. How could've he let that happen? Something _really bad_ could've happened and that would be his fault, only **his**. For a moment he almost choke on a sob, forcing himself not to cry ( _and no matter how much he wanted it_ ) and end up startling his already scared twin. Johann needed to rest, and just in that moment Jack realized the boy had fallen asleep on his shoulder, clinging at his shirt tightly.

Well, now all they could do was wait for Kozmotis to arrive ( _and maybe, just maybe not kill him in the very moment he stepped into the station because the Sheriff wouldn't be really pleased with that_ ) and then they could go home.

That would be a **very long** week...  
A very, very long week indeed.

* * *

 _ **Little fun fact:** Jack and Johann are **rarely** parted. If you ask anyone around the town, they'll say they had **never** seen one without the other. Kozmotis is the only one who had witnessed such miracle (and only when they're inside home)._

 ** _Thank you for reading!  
See ya~_**


	69. Colors

**_When I say I need a break, I mean it. So why am I still writing? I have no idea. Oh well, hello my dearies! Welcome to another terrible chapter and I'm not even sorry for this one (no, I am really sorry in fact). Baby Jack is an adorable little thing. I won't even delay myself on these notes. Just thank you all for your lovely reviews, it means a lot to me!_**

 ** _Any requests, headcanons, ideas, etc please let me know!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: In which baby Jack is too adorable to be ignored. (Or in which the author needs a break soon.)_**

* * *

 ** _69\. Colors (2016)  
_** _Guardians_

If there was something that a baby winter spirit appreciated a bit _too much_ for Pitch's liking was playing with other colors that weren't blue or black or... some shade of gray. And being a toddler, Jack had the attention span of a goldfish and he got easily bored of the never-changing _blue black white blue again_. Unfortunately there was almost nothing the Boogeyman could do about it, for no matter how many times he tried to bring Jack some colorful crayons and paints the things always disappeared the very moment he stepped back into the lair, and more than once he suspected his little Fearlings were the ones stealing from him. An exhausted sigh escaped his lips as Pitch pulled the toddler closer to his chest, keeping him safe from the shadows trying to luring the poor little thing into their corrupting arms. It may have happened once or twice, a _long_ time ago, and it seemed that stupid darkness had yet to forget the taste of such a young child.

As if he really needed **another** headache right now.

"Baa.. ba!"

"No 'ba' for you today." The Nightmare King replied quickly, holding the winter baby away from his chest to stare at him, trying to look as terrifying and menacing as possible. Jack simply squirmed on his hands in response, giggling loudly at his 'funny face'. That little imp... "I should leave you in the next forest and that's it."

Well he probably would've done it centuries ago if the situation was any different, in times when he cared nothing about others and much less about children. Alas those days were long gone and he was stuck with a tiny version of a really annoying Jack Frost with no idea of what to do. He had considered leaving the toddler in his room, safe from the wild Fearlings and mad darkness luring inside their lair, but then it'd mean Jack would be all alone and helpless for hours (and who knows what would happen during that time). He had considered leaving the child with Phaethon, yet the star had casually disappeared from the face of the Earth without a trace.

Now Pitch really needed to check on whatever gigantic _mess_ the spirits were making on the Dark Circle, and there was **no way** in seven galaxies he'd be taking Jack with him.

"They have the _entire year_ to do something stupid." The Boogeyman mumbled, ignoring the toddler drooling freely on his shoulder. "And they decided to test my patience _this week_. Can you believe it?" Jack babbled something that could almost sound as an agreement, as if it'd make any sense at all. "Well said. Now, what should I do to you... Maybe those fools-"

And Pitch suddenly realized _there was_ a place he could leave Jack and don't be worried about it. A **perfect** place to leave a toddler, indeed. Of course its owner wouldn't be really pleased to have him invading the nest all of sudden...

Oh well, he really didn't have time to ask for permission.

* * *

"Crikey!" Bunnymund felt his heart beating just too fast against his chest as Pitch's voice echoed right behind him. He had noticed something was wrong on his Warren the moment everything got strangely quiet, yet he hadn't really expected the Boogeyman to creep up on him like that. Stupid shadowy rat-bag... And then every spiteful retort he was planning to spat back at the older spirit got lost when a little cold bundle fell on his arms. A _winter toddler_. Oh good heavens... "What deh hell, mate?! Ya could've 'urt him!"

"He's already fallen from the ceiling and didn't even get a bruise. I don't think such a small height would kill him now."

"...how did he get in deh _ceiling_?" Pitch simply shrugged in response, as clueless as Bunnymund himself, and the Pooka couldn't help the harsh sigh that escaped his lips as he adjusted the baby on his arms. No matter how young he was, the kit was helplessly cold all the time... And then Jack grabbed his fur, giggling happily at the new discovery, making something on Bunny's heart melt. "Can ya at least tell me what ya're doin' here? I'm sure ya didn't come just to drop 'im around."

"A pleasant idea, but no. I need to... resolve an urgent matter and I can't take him with me."

"Ya need a babysitter."

"For a few hours." The Boogeyman replied, his expression softening gently when Jack escaped Bunny's arms and crawled around his feet, babbling and giggling loudly at the vivid grass under his little hands. It was wonderful to see the boy so happy with such simple things, like different colors... "I'll be back before nightfall. Just don't let him drown on your river and he'll be fine."

Bunnymund really wanted to complain and retort at such a **stupid** idea, because he had no idea of what to do with a baby running wild on his Warren, much less what to do with a _baby Jack Frost_ running around his home. He really wanted to have enough might to tell Pitch to get lost because that was his problem and Bunny had nothing to do with it nor any reason to help the dark spirit. Unfortunately Jack kept squeaking and laughing at his failed trials of standing up by himself, making his heart bump a little more docile than before and forcing those cruel thoughts out of his mind. That was their Jack Frost, for heaven's sake! The boy was a Guardian, baby or not, and they should take care of each other.

"Dun worry, mate. I'll keep an eye on 'im 'til ya come back."

He'd probably regret it later, but right now that was the right thing to do.  
He had dealt with his Warren being frozen over before, after all.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	70. Home

_**Hello my dearies! I'm sorry for being so late but I finally put my mind and ideas into order soon maybe I'll finally finish all those things I've been planning. At least I hope so. Not going to reply to your lovely reviews right now because it's pretty late but stay tuned to some edits on this chapter later.**_

 _ **Thank you for being so patient and wonderful! I love you all!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Tooth has a question.**_

* * *

 _ **70\. Home (2013)  
**_ _Guardians_

"Jack, can I ask you something?"

He blinked a few times, his distracted mind that had been floating miles away from another Guardian meeting rushing back into the Globe Room in less than a second, leaving him dizzy and quite stupid for a long moment. If there was something he'd never understand about Tooth (or the other Guardians) was her almost endless curiosity towards him. They had never cared about him before, and then all of sudden they were shoving countless questions and doubts about his life down his throat. It was **overwhelming** , and he hated feeling so suffocated, so disoriented and lost. Well they couldn't exactly blame him. Three hundred years had been a long time for someone as young as him, and it had left its ugly marks deep on his soul. Sometimes he had wondered what would've happened if Pitch didn't let him stay, and the mere thoughts made him shudder in fear any time he dared to dwell on it for longer than necessary.

Violet eyes staring right at him made him focus on whatever Tooth was saying because she was still talking to him in soft whispers, as if she didn't want the others to listen to their quite unwanted conversation. Fortunately North and Bunny weren't even aware of their presence by now, bickering as children over their holidays as usual, and Sandman had fallen asleep a long time ago. The winter child shifted uncomfortably on the couch, not sure if he really should talk about himself right now - yet the fairy queen seemed not to notice it, moving close enough to leave him no spaces to run away.

"I just wanted to know how it's like to live with Pitch."

Jack raised an eyebrow, wondering for no more than a moment what _kind_ of question was that. Maybe Tooth was trying to joke... But the serious express on her face was enough to make him believe she was expecting a real answer. Well that was just another thing to take note of on his little list later, but for now he just decided to relax and join Tooth's game. A smile danced on his lips and he allowed it to linger in there longer than necessary.

"It's pretty normal. I freeze his things, he scares me to death, we do boring stuff together... nothing really special."

"Oh." She hummed softly, yet it was obvious she didn't think his life with the Boogeyman himself was that 'boring'. The Guardian of Memories wriggled her hands together, eyes darting around for a few moments as if she didn't know how to deal with that piece of information. "I never thought Pitch could-"

"Have a family?" He offered gently when Tooth stopped talking all of sudden, and the violent pink that colored her face in less than a second made the winter child sigh. He knew it was still difficult to the Guardians to accept Pitch had changed, he understood that the dark spirit had done terrible things and marked them deeply but he couldn't help the uncomfortable feeling that settled on his chest anytime they tried to show Jack how cruel and deceiving the Boogeyman could be, as if he hadn't had spent _two hundred years_ of his life by Pitch's side. Was it too much to ask them to understand his side... **their** side as well? Maybe it was, but he could try to make him understand a little bit... Even if he knew he'd regret it later. With another sigh Jack pulled his knees closer to his chest, resting his chin on the top of them. "It wasn't easy on the beginning."

"And... how was it?" The fairy's voice was filled with sincere curiosity and he didn't even try to stop the smile that curled on his lips.

"He's a... difficult man. I mean, he's spent a lot of time all alone, with nothing but all that darkness. He was bitter, and well he really had that stupid idea of... turning me into one of his Fearlings." The winter child said softly, not failing to notice the quick shiver that ran down Tooth's body and the way her eyes widened in pure dread. "When he noticed it wouldn't work, we started hanging out like real friends and... I dunno, somewhere along the line he changed. Maybe it was because he wasn't alone anymore. Things weren't always great, we both had bad days and his were worse but... now everything's nice."

"I don't understand something, Jack..." Tooth pressed her lips into a thin line, hesitanting for a long, entire minute. Jack blinked slowly, trying to comprehend the reason of her sudden distress. "Why did you stay? If he was so terrible, why didn't you leave?"

"I did." And the boy needed all his will not to laugh at the shock adorning her soft expression, at the bittersweet memories rushing back into his mind as if those moments had happened only the day before. "More than once, in fact. I ran away lots of times, and Pitch kicked me out twice more. As I said, things weren't always nice between us during the first decades. But I realized that... no one else cared the way he did. He was my family. _Home_. I had no reason to stay away for too long, and when I didn't come back he always found me."

The fairy queen nodded, satisfied with his answers, and offered him a gentle smile full of understanding. His heart fluttered, suddenly too light on his chest, happiness almost punching the air out of his lungs. Someone understood. It was just... Unbelievable. A content giggle made its way up his throat and he didn't even try to hold it back. As much as it'd take the Guardians a long time to trust Pitch completely, at least Jack could hope things wouldn't be so bad.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading! See ya!**_


	71. Promise

_**Hello my dearies! This weekend has been crazy and I had little time to focus on my stories but I hope you'll forgive me! First of all, a call for Pitch/Phaethon lovers out there. I've posted a side story that focus on their relationship, how they met and blahblahblah. It'll be a nice story, I promise! So if you're interested, please take a look at the story** Daylight's End **and tell me what you think. It'd make me really happy.**_

 _ **Second, I'll be making some changes on the** Lightbringer **timeline. You can check chapter 6 for the new updates, but the most important is: the first chapter of this story (** Abandoned **) doesn't belong to** Lightbringer **anymore. You'll understand why later.**_

 _ **Now, time for your reviews! Thank you so so much for all of them. It means so much to me because I never thought someone would enjoy this story, much less give me so many wonderful and lovely reviews. Thank you!**_

 _ **A huge thanks and many loves to AyameKitsune, Island-Girl97, Plaid Otaku, FrostedDragonHeart, peerainbowdog and Ravenna Frost.**_

 _ **savedbygrace94:** That's what happens when you try to write at 3am. But thanks for the input! **  
Jane:** Oh but you should still fear the rest of Welcome Home *evil laughter* *cofcof* anyway, thank you so much my dear! ;v; **  
Guest:** That'll be the next show they'll be stopping by, yep yep._

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: In which Pitch makes a promise he's willing to keep until the end._**

* * *

 _ **71\. Promise (1709)  
**_ _Lightbringer_

The childish laughter that echoed a bit too loud on the glade made a smile dance on his lips, and even if he knew he was getting _dangerously_ soft around a human child, Pitch couldn't simply help it. It was still too hard to fully comprehend a child believed in him after centuries of pure nothing. It was still too difficult to accept that strange feeling of a delectable **happiness** that washed over him with the power of an avalanche everytime Jackson looked at him and _talked to him_. Even so the confused Fearlings weren't stronger than his flickering belief and he came back to the little village night after night, stalking the boy as if he was Jack's shadow itself - only to make sure nothing happened to **his** little treasure, to make sure those despicable Guardians would never find out about such a precious child that he had learned to cherish ( _even if he'd never admit it out loud_ ) so much in so little time.

The boy complained nothing about his almost obssessive presence, and more than once Jack had looked up at the Boogeyman as the father he had lost. Pitch refused to even try to understand _why_ a child would enjoy his company instead of fearing him because he knew he wouldn't get a proper answer. All that really mattered was the fact that Jackson Overland **believed in him**.

"Hey, Mr. Darkie!" And there was the chirping, loud voice that seemed to lift an enormous weight from his shoulders whenever he heard it even if he scowled everytime he heard the stupid nickname. "Look, look!"

With a deep sigh the Boogeyman allowed his eyes to roam freely through the glade until he finally spotted the little imp hangin upside down from a tree branch. When in darkness' name did the boy get up there? Yet he had no time to wonder about it, for Jack's joyful laughs filled the place once more, making something warm and almost painful stir within Pitch's chest - something he couldn't really comprehend but he knew it wasn't the Fearlings nor the nightmares. It was a strange, deep feeling that had meant so much once in a long time ago, just like the ancient lullaby he still hummed to Jack from time to time to help him sleep.

How ironic, the **Boogeyman** helping a child to sleep _peacefully._..

"Congratulations, you've mastered a new way of getting yourself deadly injured."

"Wha-" The child let an indignant yelp escape his lips at the sudden insult, yet his eyes filled with mischief betrayed his faked expression as much as Pitch's smile ruined his terrifying presence. "That's really mean!"

"I'm the Boogeyman. Being mean is ninety-five percent of what I do."

"I don't think so." Jack's tone was filled with a kind of seriousness that didn't fit him, and Pitch couldn't help but hesitate for a long moment, simply watching as the boy sat properly on the branch. "You're nice to me. I mean... you send the nightmares away, and..." He trailed off, but the Nightmare King understood him perfectly well. He could see the fear Jack hid under all those layers of carelessness and fun times, a cruel fear someone so young shouldn't carry - a fear that laid raw in that very moment, exposed as an infected wound that would never heal.

And for some reason he didn't care to understand right now, Pitch wanted to treat that wound.  
It felt right. It felt _necessary_.

As a pained sob escaped the boy, the Boogeyman moved through shadows and wrapped himself around the warm, trembling body, keeping Jack safe and comfortable on his arms. He'd never comprehend the loss of a parent, but maybe he could try to make things a little better for his precious believer. That was the least he could do for the first child that really believed in him after all those centuries.

"As long as you believe in me, you won't be alone." He said gently, not even daring to ignore the sudden warmth that bubbled on his chest at Jack's smile. How could he? "I'll be watching you for a long time, dearie."

And he'd do anything to keep that promise.  
 _Anything at all_.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	72. Revenge

_**I should regret what I'm doing with this story. Oh well, I don't. You asked for drama after all. I'll make myself quick on these notes today because it's really late but I hope you enjoy the new arc. Reviews are greatly appreciated! Thank you all for being so lovely and nice to me, it means a lot.**_

 _ **FrostedDragonHeart:** Pitch has a soft spot for Jack, even if he denies it everytime. Bad Boogeyman (and yep I do inspire him on Rumple sometimes, no regrets.) **  
Ravenna Frost:** That's a great idea, indeed *evil giggles* *cofcof* thank you, dear! They love you too~_

 _ **Requests, ideas, headcanons, etc please let me know!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: No spoilers here. You asked for it.**_

* * *

 _ **72\. Revenge (2026)  
**_ _Welcome Home_

If there was something he couldn't really understand about all that stupid, exhaustive situation was **why** they were so surprised, why they kept acting as if not an inch of guilt could be placed on their shoulders when the only _logical_ thing to do was blame them until the end of that world because _they were_ the only ones to blame. They were the ones who had stayed when everyone begged them to leave and simply forget his family existed. But _oh no_ , the Guardians needed to come and interfere on his life again and again, completely sure they really **meant** something to him, as if they were a some big, important part of his existence that couldn't be ignored - and their utter blindness made him _ridiculously_ angry. The shadows grew and moved on the walls in response to his sudden distress, yet he paid little attention to the darkening room, to the _painful_ creatures twisting and turning within his chest, aiming to _hurt taunt destroy_. They could have their fun later, much later. Right now he had a thousand and one things to do and he couldn't waste much time playing with his new toys ( _but they wanted to play with him they knew how to play how to have fun they could make him happy so why wouldn't he play with them wh-_ ) as much as he'd like to.

With a soft sigh he forced the Fearlings to calm down, ignoring their pleas and cries and taunts as easily as he had ignored Winter's before, melting into the shadows the same way he used to ride the Wind ( _and they both were pleasantly gentle, tugging and wrapping around his body with such gentless only a mother's touch could replicate_ ) to find himself standing in a dark street, golden eyes fixed on the six figures inside the dinner, talking in hushed whispers as if he couldn't listen to them perfectly well. **_They think they're safe_** , the Fearlings sneered, **_show them let us show them pleas-_** and he shushed them once more, unimpressed. He could put up a really good show tonight, fireworks and all that stupid meaningless things and it _woud_ be great beyond words... but his focus was somewhere else, everywhere else. Searching, seeking for something that was there ( _he could feel it on his skin on his bones it was there right in front of his eyes_ ) yet refused to come out without a _little persuasion_.

The loud growl that scraped the back of his throat barely sound human, a thousand other voices joining his own in his blind rage. How **dared** they _play with_ _ **him**_? How dared they _make fun_ of him like that?

 _Make them pay get them destroy them let us do it let u_ _ **s out let US OUT**_ _-_

Darkness engulfed the entire street for no longer than a second until calmness washed over his shaking body with the raw power of a tidal wave. There was no point in losing control so easily, for that was exactly what they wanted and oh they were so sure, so damn sure... A hoarse, humorless laugh escaped his lips at the thought.

Did they want to play?  
Fine. He'd play along.

Shadows curled up around his body, gently luring him into its embrace. It felt right and wrong at the same time, wriggling and wanting, pulling and pushing until his bones ached and his mind was too twisted to think properly - and he enjoyed it, the haunting feelings that assaulted his very soul every now and then, settling comfortably on the empty niche his heart should be placed ( _but it wasn't so why should he worry so much?_ ). What else should he feel, though? Disgust, hatred, regret... oh he **had** plenty of good options and none felt as bittersweet and _needed_ as acceptance. Countless whispers reached his ears through the darkness, invisible little hands clawing and gripping at his clothes, begging for him to stay longer **_stay and play we know many games we'll have much fun here just stay-_** but he just shook them off gently, stepping out of his particular world and into the diner without a sound, tasting the chilled air.

The fear emanating from every being in there was nearly _intoxicating_.

Eyelids half closed, he allowed himself to have a little treat, to fester on the meal they were offering him so freely. Power rushed through his veins furiously, ligthing up every hidden corner within his soul, forcing the Fearlings to move and react at the sudden, unexpected force until they finally quieted down at once. Blessed silence overcame his senses and even the Guardians' worried voices had been shut away for a wonderful, long second. How much he had missed the stillness that filled his mind in that moment, and even if he knew it wouldn't last forever he appreciated that small, rare pleasure. Sucking in a shuddering breath he finally moved, slipping into an empty seat before anyone could notice his presence - but they didn't even send a glance towards his spot for almost five minutes.

Were they truly _that_ blind...?  
Oh well... he wasn't feeling so patient today.

A harsh commentary about his little Fearlings gave him a perfect moment to make himself present.

"Hey, don't talk about them like that. They're really sensitive."

And he really didn't expect the wave of pure fear that crashed against his senses so suddenly, forcing him to take a second to savor every little feeling ( _fear of him for him so many and so different he wanted them all they knew he wanted it why wouldn't he let them play?_ ) before golden eyes focused on those he once had considered as **almost** friends but now were nothing but strangers wearing even more strange masks. Kozmotis was the only one he truly recognized, and a flash of smile curled on his lips as he moved closer, trying to approach his beloved father ( _I want to touch to hold_ _don't move away please please don't be scared of me I love you you know I do_ ) only to be stopped by a strong hand on his shoulder that shoved him back into the shadows roughly, yet the darkness didn't let him fall, its embrace keeping him steady and still, cooing soft words against his ear just like the Wind once used to do so many times before.

Unfortunately it went completely unnoticed by Jack. His gaze settled on the Pooka in disguise and the creature simply stared back, growling like the animal he really were under all that human skin.

"Stay away from us, ya lil' monster!"

That was a really low blow, and anyone else on their right minds wouldn't even think about spitting something so cruel and stupid out loud - but it was as clear as day that the Bringer of Hope was far from his right mind, all those centuries of thousand years of anger and hatred and fear ( _so much fear so much horror he remembers of course he does_ ) almost printed on his human features. There was hopelessness and deception dangling amidst the thin layer of madness that had befallen over his former comrade, as if he couldn't simply accept that he had lost the game, he couldn't accept they had just failed a child they all swore to protect. There was betrayal and despair, for he couldn't believe Jack had become so twisted, marred and marked by the darkness they've fought for so long to contain, and the boy wasn't surprised to notice the feeling bubbling up on his guts wasn't anger ( _but he should be angry they should make him pay they should-_ ), it wasn't hatred nor disgust.

"Ya'll give Jack back or..."

It was pity.

But it didn't mean he wouldn't have his personal, little revenge.  
Bunnymund had forgotten he knew how to bite too.

"Or what will you do, _rabbit_?" The word felt thick and alien on his tongue but the heavy accent he had managed to replicate with perfection had been more than enough to make the man retreat a step, eyes wide as if he had been slapped. "Will you give me some colorful eggs on Easter or ask the Tooth Fairy to stick a quarter under my pillow?" He felt the gold on his eyes shifting slightly, following his quiet distress - a storm ready to rage over them at any moment, sooner or later. "What about my **favorite**? Why don't you throw me down a hole with nothing but Fearlings and nightmares as company and _forget_ that I've ever existed?"

The Pooka let out a sound that almost resembled a pathetic whimper, stepping away so blindly that he almost fell over a table behind him, clunching his chest as if Jack had simply stabbed him on the heart - and the child saw it, the very moment every drop of hope died on the man's green eyes, withering away as quickly as a spring flower during the last days of winter. It was as beautiful as it was dreadful and truth to be told, Bunnymund quite _deserved_ it. The shadows moved happily under his feet, the Fearlings cooing and cheering at his realization. Those **oh so mighty** Guardians deserved to be hurt and despised because those three days ( _three days that have been so great, so full of hope_ ) could never erase three hundred years of abandonment. Kozmotis... what Pitch had done had been twice worse but well now Jack could understand why, and even if sometimes he wanted to the boy couldn't bring himself to hate the only person that ever tried to care about him. They were a real family now, after all.

Jack just needed to... mend some things. And _quick_.

"That was a great talk but I have things to do, people to scare... Y'know, my agenda is completely full right now." The Guardians stared at him and once more their fears invaded the small place. Really, it could be a little less annoying... but maybe he could enjoy it. With a deep sigh he offered them a crooked, almost cruel smile. Oh that'd be so fun... "I hope you've enjoyed our little town so far. You'll be staying for some time."

In a blink of an eye he was gone, and he almost recognized someone's scream as darkness engulfed the town completely.  
 _Almost_.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	73. Sick

**_Oopsie, I'm late. Sorry about it, dearies! I just had this busy weekend and I couldn't really focus on writing but omg your reviews made me so happy! I mean it! I know I should've expected it buuuut. I'm not sorry at all. I know you guys are all confused and such but I'll be explaining a lot through the next chapters of the arc. No spoilers for now tho. Thank you for your wonderful reviews and follows &favorites. You guys are great!_**

 ** _I'll be disappearing for a few days to focus on a request and on my other stories but I'll be back soon!_**

 _ **Therrestory: Yes, I'll be making a proper timeline soon! Thanks~**_

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: In which something is just wrong._**

* * *

 ** _73\. Sick (2025)  
_** _Welcome Home_

The first thing he noticed as he stepped into the kitchen was the insufferable quietness. Everything was strangely silent on the house and that just meant terrible news. It was too early for the boys to be playing outside ( _and they always warned him whenever they wanted to go out all of sudden, they were still inside_ ), yet late enough for them to be awake already and it was more than unusual _not to_ have the twins running around the place nor begging for breakfast. Kozmotis frowned at the thought, staying really still for a long moment to be sure it wasn't just his imagination playing tricks on him so early in the morning - and the only noise he finally heard was of a single pair of feet running down the stairs. No voices nor giggles... something was **wrong**. Something was just so, _so wrong_ and every fatherly instinct on his body seemed to wake up at once. He dropped the plate on the counter even before Johann stepped into the kitchen, shocking blue eyes shining in fear and confusion.

"What?" Kozmotis almost growled as the boy did nothing but stare for a long moment, yet he couldn't bring himself to be so harsh in that moment. The child was shivering under the long pajamas, wriggling his hands as if he needed to do something but didn't know what. "Where's that excuse of a twin you have?"

"He's... sick." Johann finally muttered, looking so small and afraid that Kozmotis moved closer to kneel in front of the child, hands resting gently on trembling shoulders to offer his precious boy some comfort. It seemed to help, for Johann looked up and and forced back a sniff he had been holding. "He's got a bad fever and... I d-don't understand, we never... got sick..."

The older man felt a pang of worry and anxiety making his stomach twist. Of course they never got sick before, for they _shouldn't_ get sick. They were still immortals in disguise, with false memories and bodies and lives. And for the first time in a long time he felt fear running wild through his body, Phillip's warnings echoing on his head as if the writer was standing behind him, scolding him over and over. Why couldn't he have simply forced the Guardians to leave them at once? Oh well, maybe it was because he was a powerless man ( _too scared to face them to fight them what a coward you are_ ) or maybe because he really didn't believe someone could ruin _their_ deserved happiness and peace. It didn't really matter now. With a deep sigh Kozmotis forced a smile to curl on his lips, patting Johann's brown hair sweetly. There was no reason to fret the boy just yet.

"That's okay, love. Perhaps it's a simple cold."

"But shouldn't I be sick too?" Johann asked quietly, nibbling his lower lip in pure worry. Well it was more than obvious the boy would get so worried about his brother. "H-he'll get better.. right?"

"Of course he will." Kozmotis smiled once more, silently praying that he wasn't lying. Maybe it was really just a simple cold, maybe he was getting worried for nothing... but deep down he knew he was just trying to fool himself. They **couldn't** get sick and if Jack was, something really bad was going to happen sooner than later. "Now, why don't you prepare him some tea and I'll go check on that fever?"

The boy nodded, yet he took a long moment to stare at the stairs as if considering going back to their room in that very second before moving to the kitchen quickly. That sweet child... Kozmotis sucked in a deep breath and gathered enough courage to go upstairs, praying to every entity still alive on the cosmos for Jack's sickeness be only a cold, a flu... _anything_ would be better than what Phillip had warned him about before. **Anything** at all. He slipped into the dark room quietly, ignoring the knot that formed on his throat as Jack's pained sobs reached his ears and the anger that bubbled within his chest. His dear boy was sick because of him, because of the Guardians and he could do nothing but sit by the child's side and brush his hair to maybe, _just maybe_ comfort him ( _because he had no idea of what to do with such a sick, young creature_ ).

"Shh..." He hushed Jack when the boy started whimpering again, trying to move his head away from Kozmotis' warm hand, face flushed and eyes clouded by the fever. The sight was... _heartbreaking_ , and the older man needed all his self control not to whimper as well. Jack, **his** Jack didn't deserve that... "It's okay... Johann will bring you some tea and I'll go out to buy you some medicine. Is it good?"

The child offered a soft moan in response, pulling the blankets closer to his trembling body, and for a moment Kozmotis could swear he noticed a shadow moving under the window for only a heartbeat, so sudden and so softly that he wondered if he should really worry too much right now. Jack needed his complete attention and some painkillers. As he left Johann to take care of his brother ( _and he'd regret it every inch of his body simply screamed it to his face but he needed to do something_ _ **anything**_ ), Kozmotis only hoped Phillip wouldn't kill him so soon for being so stupid - even if he knew he'd _deserve_ it. Maybe they still had enough time to fix everything, _maybe_ they weren't as screwed as he had imagined...

But he didn't expect to return an hour later to an empty house and two missing children.  
They were _**completely fucked**_.

* * *

 _ **Little fact: You shouldn't ignore a (forger) star's warnings. Never.**_

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	74. Neverland

_**Hello my sweet pies! I know I said that I'd be away for some time but my mind refused to work with so much drama all at once. So here, have a cute little chapter instead. Hope you guys like it!**_

 ** _AND WOW 300 REVIEWS ALREADY! You guys are great, I swear! Thank you, thank you so so much. I've never thought this story could get so much love but ugh you guys are wonderful and I love you all.. Thank you!_**

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which the author has serious problems dealing with drama.**_

* * *

 ** _74\. Neverland (1905)_  
** _Lightbringer_

"So there _is_ a place called Neverland!" Jack chirped suddenly, forcing Pitch to take a deep breath and swallow back the mean retort that got stuck on his throat, as much as he'd like to snap at the boy in that moment. Today was one of those really bad days when he just wanted to be alone and away from everything but the shadows, yet there was no way in the whole world that could make Jack Frost understand such a simple thing, so instead of burning all the little patience he had on those days he just allowed the child to stay around until Jack got tired of his bad mood. Which surprisingly never took too long, considering everything about the winter spirit. "Can you imagine it, Pitch?"

"An island full of children that never grow up. _Oh the joys._ " The irony filled with spite didn't go unnoticed, and it took Jack only a second to scoff in response. "As if one flying pest wasn't enough punishment for me."

The child made a surprised, loud noise full of faked pain and **pouted** , as if Pitch had just said the most hurtful thing in the world that couldn't ever be forgiven, and for a moment the Boogeyman couldn't decide if it was stupid or simply _adorable_. Well maybe a mix of both. He felt his lips twitching into a soft smile without his consent, and something in the back of his mind stirred and lifted a weight off his shoulders, a weight he hadn't noticed until it was completely gone. How could Jack have such effects on him, Pitch never bothered to find out. He stepped closer to his ward, brushing the white hair back into its place even if he knew it was completely useless. Wind just loved to mess with Jack's hair so much to leave it alone.

"I've met Pan once. You'd get along, you know? Both of you are _hopelessly annoying_." And the Nightmare King couldn't help but laugh at Jack's scowl, as if such a young thing could look terribly menacing (but he got an A for the effort, Pitch wouldn't deny it). "But I don't think you'd enjoy the place. Neverland never changes so you'd get easily bored." The winter spirit made a humming noise, curiosity shining on his bright blue eyes and he didn't even need to open his big mouth for the Boogeyman to know his next question. "Yes, I've visited Neverland and no, we're not going there."

"Come oooon..."

"Go bother Phaethon. He's the one always spending time on that forsaken excuse of an island."

"Do you think he'd take me there?" The Nightmare King needed a second and a deep breath not to roll his eyes at the boy in exasperation. Phaethon would take him back to the _Golden Age itself_ if Jack asked to see how things were - and sometimes it was strangely annoying. Not that he was jealous. There was _nothing_ to be jealous of, for darkness' sake! But before he had enough time to snap out of his thoughts and answer Jack, the winter child was already floating in air, his smile as wide as always. "Well, see you later then!"

Oh well... at least Pitch would have a few hours of peace and quiet.  
That would be... nice.

He could only hope Jack wouldn't decide to adopt a few Lost Boys during his little trip.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	75. Special I

_**I swear I'm a serious writer. But not today, today my mood is fully crack and I didn't want to create a whole new story so yeah, sorry not sorry at all. I promise I'll be updating a good chapter soon, with lots of drama and all for you guys but for now, have some moments that may have happened through the chapters. No timelines so feel free to place them wherever you want!**_

 _ ***gasps at all those 300+ reviews* you guys are AWESOME! I love you so much! Thank you!**_

 _ **Little fun fact: Pan & Jack are best buddies.**_

 _ **Jane:** All the reasons will be explained soon but I can say Kozmotis isn't really happy to be there. But worry not my dear! I promise I'll come back with a good explanation (at least I hope so). Thank you for the review!_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 ** _Summary: Random moments that may have happened through the chapters (which means lots of crack and nonsense in short measures)  
Warnings: crack, lots of it._**

* * *

 _ **75\. Special**_

 _ **I.**_

"So, you can see spirits... with no need of believing in them. And you're not scared of them." Pitch's voice was filled with a strange happiness, and Jack groaned for what seemed to be the hundred time in less than five minutes. He couldn't even remember why he decided to bring the Nightmare King to that little town in the middle of nowhere but right now it had become the worst of his ideas. Pitch had that weird look on his face that meant he was planning something the winter bringer wouldn't like at all-

"Well, not much. I mean... some are _really_ scary but others just want a friend, I think." And _why_ did Norman keep encouraging the Boogeyman?! Not that Jack didn't like the boy, he was nice and he could see them but... Jack knew **exactly** what was going through Pitch's wicked mind in that very moment, and it was past time to step into the situation before things got out of hand.

"We are _not_ keeping him, Pitch."

They definetely were **not** going to take Norman Babcock home with them.

Not in a _million_ years.

...

...

...

" **PITCH!** "

"I'm completely innocent on the matter. He asked me to come."

Jack slammed his head against the closest wall. That would be a very, _very long_ day.

* * *

 _ **II.**_

Jack knew he should just take it easy and sleep after a whole season of hard work (hibernating was always pleasant, after all) yet he was pretty sure it was a bit too soon for him to start having hallucinations. Either he was terribly exhausted or...

"...why are you wearing Aurora's clothes?"

"They're comfy."

...or Aurion was **in fact** wearing a _scandalous_ pink dress.

"And _why_ on Mother's name she'd borrow you one of her favorite dresses?" The summer creature offered him silence and a sheepish smile, and Jack needed a long second to understand it. Oh, for fuck's sake... "You stole it."

"Actually... **you** did."

Horror dawned on the winter child.

He was so, _so dead_.

Well, at least he'd make sure to kill Aurion before Aurora could find them.

* * *

 _ **III.**_

"What in darkness' name are you doing?"

Not that Pitch really needed to ask but he just wanted to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him, because it was always highly probable to find a winter child and a spirit of misfortune playing some stupid childish game with his Fearlings. And those stupid things **allowed** it. Unbelievable!

"We're playing." Jack said matter-of-factly, looking so _damn proud_ of himself that the Boogeyman needed to take a deep breath not to strangle the child. "Hide and seek is their favorite game."

Pitch simply growled in response, pinching the bridge of his nose and wondering if he should kill the boy now or... right away.

Bless the stars Jack noticed the shadows growing dangerously around him and disappeared into the lair before the Nightmare King reopened his eyes, taking the little Fearlings with him.

Good. Now he could _torture_ Phaethon without interruptions.

* * *

 _ **IV.**_

"Nightshade! Stop it! Bad, bad girl!"

Pitch Black could only raise an hairless eyebrow towards the winter child that didn't even notice his presence, too focused on the frozen mare trying to escape his cold fingers - and no one could blame the poor creature, for Jack kept trying to force a really comical hat on her head. She stomped the powerful hooves on the dark ground in response, whinning loudly.

"Just stay still!"

"I don't think she appreciates your gift." The Boogeyman said simply, snorting as Nightshade backed away from a very annoyed child. "She has her pride, you know."

Jack didn't even listen to him, so Pitch decided to leave him with his new game. Maybe one day he'd get to see a war horse wearing a pink flowered hat.

* * *

 _ **V.**_

Phaethon knew something was coming the moment winter's breeze touched his body. Well he did enjoy Jack's little visits but today he wasn't in a good mood and-

Then there was a sharp cold on his back and over his shoulders, little fingers messing with his hair before he had enough time to really understand who was **assaulting** him so openly and why.

"What are you _doing_?"

"Fixing your hair." The winter child replied nonchalantly, and the older spirit couldn't help but grimace at the unsettling touch on his neck.

"You're **freezing** it."

"That's a way to go."

* * *

 _ **VI.**_

"Mom. Mom. Mom. Mooooom."

Mother Nature turned another page of her book, really trying to pretend there wasn't a winter spirit calling her endlessly.

"Mommy. Mommy. Mum. Mum."

Maybe if she ignored him for long enough he'd leave her alone...

"Mama. Mamaaaa. Ma. Ma."

That was getting really, really annoying...

"Emily. Emily. Emily."

" _ **WHAT?!**_ "

Jack Frost offered her the most bright smile he could've managed in that moment and... "Hi!"

And then he was gone, laughing like a mad hyena.

She'd kill him. Later, much later.

* * *

 _ **VII.**_

There was something wrong going on her island yet Amelia couldn't quite comprehend what. Her familiars were silent as always and everything was on its place so why did she have that feeling gnawing at the back of her head? Maybe she was just too tired from all the seasonal work and needed a good rest and...

And then she found a mirror.

" _AAAAHHHHHHH!_ "

Why was her hair (and face and clothes and good part of her body) covered in a terribly shade of pink glue?

She didn't need to wonder much as a loud laughter echoed.

...

"Why Mel, the pink suits you!"

...

Well Mother would be _lacking_ a stupid Winter Bringer really soon.

"FROST!"

* * *

 _ **I lost all the self control I had a lot of chapters ago. I blame you guys.**_  
 _ **Thank you for reading! See ya!**_


	76. Dreamless

**_Hello my dearies! I'm just hopping by to leave this short chapter because I missed Winter but my head refuses to work properly. I swear I'm trying to work on your requests too, but they might be a little late and I'm sorry for that. However, I hope you enjoy this little chapter!_**

 ** _And I'm so glad you guys enjoyed the previous chapter! It was really fun to write and if you want I can bring more like that to this story. Thank you so much for your support and lovely reviews, tho. You guys are great!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: In which Sandman finds something curious._**

* * *

 ** _76\. Dreamless (2014)  
_** _Guardians_

The quiet murmuring echoing from the constant cold room was strangely comfortable, Sandman had decided one day. He truly loved Jack's endless energy, the reckless way the boy did everything but he couldn't refuse he had grown fond of the slow, almost silent way Winter acted. Sanderson would be lying if he dared to say it didn't remind him of Nightlight - that precious star child he had missed so dearly but would never come back, no matter what he tried to do. Jack Frost was not Nightlight, and he should accept it. They all should, but he understood how hard it was... to let someone go. The golden man allowed a soundless sigh escape his lips as he sipped on his eggnog, trying to push his thoughts into a happier path, only noticing he had floated into the room and invaded a private moment when it was too late to turn back.

A pair of sharp, silvery eyes focused on his face for a long moment, fear running wild and free through his small body until Pitch finally recognized him and relaxed visibly, the shadows retreating into their places as quickly as they had approached the dreamweaver (as if he hadn't expected the Boogeyman to be so overprotective over his child after everything they had been through) as their master turned to focus on the child resting against his chest.

"Many, many dreams. Bright, too bright... Like counting birds against the sun, burning but beautiful... I like them..."

And there was Winter whispering so softly that the Guardian of Dreams barely heard him, shocking blue eyes completely focused on the golden spirit's face with such an intense curiosity that Sandman hadn't seen in a long, long time. It felt... strangely _pleasant_ to be admired so openly after all those centuries, and before he could notice it Sandy felt himself pushing a small wave of dreamsand towards the season-child, for a moment wondering what it'd become. To his surprise, the golden sand simply floated around the boy, taking no shape at all even when Jack touched it gently. That was the first time the dreamweaver witnessed such a thing and he couldn't comprehend why.

How could it be?

Even the _Boogeyman himself_ could dream, and Jack's dreams had always been so simple and endearing... As if sensing his sudden distress the winter child pulled the hand away, moving to hide better on the folds of Pitch's robes, muttering something that sounded like 'I'm sorry'.

"Shh..." The Nightmare King cooed oh so gently, with a smile so full of affection and peace dancing on his lips, that Sandy needed a moment to remember it was Pitch Black sitting there, even if it was almost impossible to _recognize_ him. It was excruciatingly difficult to see the **Boogeyman** , the dark creature they had fought and hated for so long, instead of a father spoiling his hurt, scared child. "Sanderson isn't angry. You've surprised him, that's all."

And the Guardian nodded quickly as Jack stared up at him, looking for some kind of affirmation. He offered the boy a sweet smile and a few symbols over his head, trying to make Jack understand everything was fine and he wasn't angry at all, and the winter child relaxed softly on Pitch's arms. Even so Sandman couldn't ignore such a strange situation, for a dreamless spirit was too rare and interesting and Sandman would investigate it as much as he could later. Now he'd simply enjoy the quiet presence of his kindred spirits and the alien yet _wonderful_ tranquility exhaling from the room that soon lulled him ( _and the others, he'd notice only much later_ ) into sleep.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	77. Bad End

**_It's 3AM and I really should be sleeping. Oh well. I take no responsabily for this chapter. It's mildly based on the song_** _'Bad End Night'_ ** _, and it takes place in no current timeline. I just needed to write it before I went crazy and I was in a dark mood. *shrugs* But I'll give a cookie to anyone who fully understands the chapter~_**

 ** _Thank you for your reviews, follows and favorites! It means a lot to me!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Warnings:_** _blood, violence,_ _psychological abuse._

* * *

 ** _77\. Bad End (?)  
_** _(?)_

There were a few things very clear on his mind the moment he woke up. It was dark, it was deadly quiet and there was something terribly _wrong_ in that forest. He knew he shouldn't be there, and even if he couldn't remember _where_ exactly he should be Jack wouldn't be staying in those woods for too long. He needed to get out. He needed to go home, for he knew there was a home waiting for him somewhere. Home meant safety. Yes, **that** was right... So he'd stand up and... a sharp, violent pain on his chest made him gasp and forget anything he'd been poorly planning. For a long moment he could think of nothing but the throbbing agony assaulting his fragilized body, his mind completely void from any other thought that wasn't _make it stop please make it stop it hurts it hurts_ \- and then the painful burning was gone as easily as if it had never existed, leaving him numb and dizzy for an entire minute before his mind settled on working on the little pieces of situations here and there, yet nothing made any sense to him. How could it be? He should remember, it was more than obvious but... he simply **couldn't**. As if someone had placed a veil over his memories, keeping them away from their owner. Well, that wasn't important right now. Now he needed to get out of that damned forest, and quickly.

With a soft grunt Jack finally pushed himself on a sitting position, fingers touching the rought wood of his staff. He pulled it closer, enjoying the familiar feeling of power and control rushing through his veins and helping him to relax. His mind caught a few more things that didn't seem relevant in that moment. Pain completely forgotten, he forced his body up and leaned against the staff. His legs trembled under his weight for only a second before he leaned against his staff to keep his balance, taking a deep breath. His little plan was working really well, despite the numbness on his body and the darkness sweeping into his mind and pushing the memories of latest events away. Maybe he could even find a way out of those woods sooner than he was expecting! With a tentative step the winter spirit decided to start moving. The Wind wasn't around to give him some support and that was probably a good thing. As weak as he felt, riding his old friend would be a terrible idea.

"Now... where am I?"

That forest looked nothing like the ones he had visited during his decades of solitude, and Jack had been so sure he'd seen every woods in the world. How couldn't he recall this one? The quietness was _disturbing_ , a place so silent he could've mistaken it from a graveyard. Woods weren't supposed to feel so... rotten, twisted. They should be full of life, bright and familiar. Jack Frost _shuddered_ , gasping at the realization. He couldn't be cold, for he was cold itself. Everything was so tainted and hideous in there... But he'd be fine as long as he got home. _Someone_ back at home would make things right again, he was strangely sure of that. But again, he had no idea of **where** home was and it didn't really matter now. A strange feeling gnawing at the back of his head forced him to keep walking and _something is behind me-_ walking and walking... _stop following me stop it stop it go away_ _ **GO AWAY!**_ Running, he was running faster and faster and faster...

And then azure eyes focused on something he had never expected to find.

There, in the middle of the dead woods, laid a huge mansion. There were so many closed windows and lights and something was **_wrong_**...

Horror built its way up from his stomach to his lungs, knocking the air out of the frozen insides, the moment he noticed his body moving against his own will. _No no no no_ _ **NO!**_ His fingers tightened around the ancient staff, eyes wide open in shock but he couldn't simply _stop_ moving. He didn't want to go there, he wanted to stay _as far as possible_ from that horrid mansion but his body had been shut out to his own desires. _No stop it stop it help me someone-_ he was getting so close now, why **couldn't he stop?!** He could see the patterns on the windowsills and on the balcony, and they were so pretty and so dreadful at the same time... _It's a dream it must be just a bad dream-_ Pale fingers curled into a fist, Jack swallowed back the sob that threatened to escape his lips when he knocked on the old door, even if deep down he wanted to scream and run away. The immortal child knocked once... _please no-_ twice... _please stop it I don't want to be here I wanna go home-_

"Hello? Is anybody home?" And even _his voice_ betrayed him! He felt tears pricking into his eyes but something forced them back, not even allowing him **to cry**. Why were things so cruel, so wicked on that place? Why couldn't he just go home and curl on the first darling person he'd find there? And to his utmost terror, the door cracked open ever so slowly, a familiar face that he refused to recognize staring right into his bright eyes. "I..I'm sorry to interrupt but..."

"Oh dear, you're late!" The fairy-lady smiled so gently and so widely that for a second Jack dared to believe he'd be safe, truly safe from whatever was chasing him outside, before something else sparkled on her violet eyes. Something violent and vicious that would make him turn and run away as quickly as possible if his stupid body listened to his commands. "Come in, Jack!" She knew his name how could she know his name...?

And before he could move _(but he couldn't so what was the point on trying?)_ her warm fingers had curled around his fragile wrist with a death's grip, pulling him into the mansion with a frightening strenght. Inside was terribly wider than he had thought, and there were voices and colors echoing around that he couldn't understand what was happening. Behind him, the sickening noise of a door being locked sounded too loud on his ears. More people approached suddenly, gathering around him and talking and **appraising** him... But they were so big and so loud and intimidating that once more the poor child felt tears trying to escape his eyes. He felt so alone, young and weak and he _shouldn't_ feel like that! Someone grabbed his staff and he squeaked in fear, pulling it so close to his chest that the pain from before threatened to come back at full force yet he cared nothing about it. His eyes darted to and fro, lips pressed into a thin line- _he wanted to cry to scream but he couldn't why wouldn't his voice work_ _ **now**_ _?_

"Oh you don't need to worry!" The fairy-lady cooed softly, and now that he could see her well enough he finally noticed her glittering, colorful feathers. Her smile was sweetly twisted and he felt a shiver course through his entire frozen body, a whimper seconds away from leaving his sealed lips. "So scared, the little one!"

"Dat he is, deh poor kit."

 _Stop..._

"Ve can help."

 _Stop it..._

"There's nothing to be afraid of."

He glimpsed the silver sparkle of a sword. Four smiling faces twisted into cruel, tainted grins as they closed in.

Tears finally found their way down his cheeks.

 _Someone..help me.._

A hand approached to touch his staff again, and for the first time in that forsaken night his body responded to his commands to run. As the giant man grabbed his precious conduit, the winter spirit let go of it in order to run as fast as he could, his mind refusing to wrap around the idea he was trapped in that place. He crossed countless corridors never looking back, sobbing at every loud laughter filled with malice and cruelty that echoed behind him. A door came into view and he leaped on it, almost flying down the stairs, praying for any exit waiting for him on the end...

 **Coffins**.

Small coffins were scattered everywhere around the floor, pools of fresh blood flowing from them.

"Oh, you silly boy. Look what you've done."

He backed away from the harsh voice, trying to put as much distance as he could but it was of no use. They were blocking the passage, still smiling those horrifying smiles. He had nowhere to run to. The winter child still stepped back, slipping into the endless red coloring the dark room and colliding painfully on the cold floor. His head screamed from the impact and his vision blurred for a moment but soon the pain was forgotten as panic overcame his senses. They were close _so close so_ _ **close**_ _\- no no no no!_

The arm carrying a sword raised. There was blood on the blade, **old** _and fresh_ **and rot** _and dripping_ **and dark**.

He sobbed, voice and will to run completely lost on the sea of terror he had sunk in. He was frozen in place, panicking silently. His heart was beating as fast as a humming bird. He could barely breath, lungs refusing to work properly. The sword lowered before he could comprehend what would happen in a matter of instant.

Unbearable pain exploded through his entire torso, and for the first time Jack screamed.

And he kept screaming and screaming until warm hands grabbed him and shook him wake. He opened his eyes in a jolt, still screaming and trashing against the offending hands but whoever was holding him never let go. A voice echoed over his helpless screeches, quiet and soft and gentle. Words meant to soothe his insane horror, to push the vivid nightmare away from his thoughts until there was nothing left there but them both and the gentle warmth spreading through his bare chest, almost caressing the scar the barbaric sword had branded on his once pure skin. Words that were so sweet and caring... and the child clung to the man in black as one would cling to a lifesaver, sobbing and pleading and crying. _No more no more he could take **no more.**_

"Shh..." And Jack heard Pitch Black saying, hugging and kissing and keeping him so close the younger spirit couldn't even breath. "I'm here, snowflake. You're safe now."

And he _believed_ it.

He didn't see the dark sand escaping from the scar.

He didn't see his pale skin became grey and then a sickening shade of black, tainted and marred by fear and darkness.

He clung at the Nightmare King, still sobbing and trembling and begging.

And Pitch Black smiled, whispering and taunting the broken child until Jack Frost was no more. And then, he'd start the nightmare over and over again, he'd kill Winter over and over again for they still had a long way to go until the boy that once had meant so much would be nothing but another Fearling.

Good thing they were immortal, and he had all the time on the world.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	78. Clothes

**_Hello my dearies! Just a short, sweet chapter because my head hurts and I'm still trying to figure out what I'll do about this story. Worry not, for I'm working on your requests and I'll post them soon! For now, thank you so much for your support and it means a lot to me! You guys are great!_**

 ** _Aaand I'm glad you guys enjoyed last chapter *evil cackles* *cofcof* I regret nothing at all._**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: In which a Nightmare King is still learning how to deal with a winter child._**

* * *

 ** _78\. Clothes (1718)  
_** _Lightbringer_

His lack of experience with human children became a really bothersome situation long before he had fully comprehended in what he had put himself into, yet his almost endless patience worked well enough to compensate for it. Jack, that _wonderful_ little soul, cared nothing about his flaws. Not that the winter child cared about many things but having fun and spreading snow around. Talking about him... Pitch sighed loud enough to force himself back into reality, pulling the boy against himself for the umpteenth time. He'd never understand how easily the boy got stupid ideas (like thinking they were **playing** something) and he wasn't so sure if he really wanted to know. All Pitch wanted in that moment was make Jack stand still for more _than a damn second_. Unfortunately the child had gotten the terrible habit of freezing his clothing over and over, and even if it quite suited the boy it also made the Boogeyman's Fearlings get stuck on his shirt or pants **everytime** , and it couldn't be more than unpleasant to have pieces of himself being frozen over.

"Stay still!"

"It tickles!"

Pitch scowled, struggling to keep a squirming child in place and failing once again. He wasn't in a real mood for games tonight, and the chills creeping up his body only served to make him more sullen. Not that a stupid excuse of a child spirit was too worried about the danger hovering a bit _too close_ to his pale little neck, and when Jack squeaked and jumped away from reach, the Boogeyman decided he had had enough. The second time the boy squeaked it was because of a pair of shadows wrapped firmly around his body, forcing him to _finally_ quiet down and stare at Pitch with something akin to **disapproval**. That little devil... With an annoyed growl he pulled the frozen shirt off Jack's body, wrapping the child in an almost warm layer of shadows.

"You're no fun." The winter spirit said nonchalantly, and the Nightmare King really needed to take a deep, long breath in order not to break something (or maybe a child's neck) in that very moment. Yet, to his complete surprise, Jack simply snuggled against the new clothes, _purring_ happily at the soft material involving his body. Now he could remember why he despised children too much, they were completely **insane**! "Is it what you wear all the time? I like it." And there was the boy talking too fast again, leaving Pitch no spaces to talk at all. Oh well... "It's really... good and warm. Can I have it?" Jack asked with such sweetness that the older spirit really couldn't help the smile that curled on his lips.

"As long as you don't freeze yourself over again, yes."

The bright smile that Jack offered him was worth all the trouble Pitch had had before.

And he found out that a winter youngling adored his warm, dark clothes.  
One problem solved.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	79. Ice

_**Hello my dearies! I know I'm late and I know I'm still owing you guys some requests but I promise I'm working on them! I'm soooorrryyyy ;~; but thank you for being wonderful readers and leaving lovely reviews! You are amazing! Thank you so so so much!**_

 _ **Ravenna Frost:** Jack does like warm clothes *nodnod* and omg poor you XD **  
Jane:** Jack's been seen stealing some Pitch's clothes more often than he cared to count *giggles* I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you!_

 _ **Again I'm sorry for the delay and for the short chapter but oh well, thank you for sticking around! You guys are great and I love you!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Jack had to face a terrible mistake.**_

* * *

 _ **79\. Ice (1912)  
**_ _Welcome Home_

"You don't need to be here."

Jack shook his head slowly, not even bothering to look at the dark spirit by his side in that moment. He didn't need Phaethon's pitiful look to know he would regret his decision sooner than later, but as much as he didn't _want_ to be there he couldn't simply leave and pretend nothing had happened. He was the only one to blame after all, for it was his cold that turned waters unbearable, it had been his ice and frost that created all those beautiful, twisted, deadly icebergs. If he couldn't get rid of his own creations _(he was so pathetic how couldn't he destroy something he had created he should do it why do you keep taking lives)_ , at least he should stay and witness the results of his weakness. How cruel Lady Fate could be sometimes, for those that soon would be dead were the only ones being punished for _his_ crimes. And worst of all, they wouldn't even **blame** him as they should. They'd blame a god that didn't look for them anymore. They'd blame Fate and the cold and the workers and-

Anyone but the real culprit, for no matter what he did, they'd never believe in Jack Frost. Even when he was taking their lives as if it meant nothing.

Fingers gripped at the ancient staff with enough strength to break it, and for a moment he wanted to.  
For a breathtaking moment, he **wanted** to break his precious staff in so many pieces and get rid of those hideous powers that only served to kill and hurt and-

A hand rested on his shoulder, its warmth burning away the horror from his mind, shushing words forcing the panic to die on his heart yet Jack knew he didn't deserve that. He deserved to suffer as much as the people screaming on the ship, as the children that wouldn't grow up because of him. Tears trailed down his cheeks freely, too many to be frozen on his face, agony too great that for once he had been allowed to cry. The older spirit shifed behind him, strong arms wrapped around his fragile body before he had enough time to escape the touch. He didn't want that - the comfort, the pity... he wanted the pain for all the dreams and hopes he was destroying, he wanted to cry his apologies until there were no more tears for him to shed. Yet the winter spirit didn't stop himself from snuggling at Phaethon's chest, he didn't stop himself from sobbing into the spirit of misfortune's clothes.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

And for almost three hours they stood there, watching as the magnificent ship sank and got lost within dark waters forever. For almost three hours he wept for those he couldn't save, for the countless dreams and souls that had been lost because of his ice. Phaethon kept whispering comforting words, almost trying to reassure him that wasn't his fault even if Jack knew it was. Who else was there to blame? It hadn't been Lady Fate nor Mother Nature that created the icebergs out of boredom. _He_ had made them in hopes to find a new game, a new way to take his mind away from the loneliness gnawing at his very spirit. He had been the one that couldn't get rid of the giant pieces of ice before it was too late. How could one be so useless, so reckless with their own powers? He wasn't a child anymore. He had two hundred years of the same mistakes weighing on his shoulders and it seemed he couldn't simply **learn** with them.

Finally, somewhere deep in the cold waters a clock struck 2:20am. The loud cry of metal echoed for one last time as the _unsinkable_ ship disappeared into the Atlantic, taking almost a thousand five hundred lives with her. Fathers, mothers, children that would've never believed in him... And there was nothing he could do but sit on a loose door, waiting for the guilty and self-loathing to wash away even if he knew it'd never happen. Phaethon moved after long minutes, seeming satisfied enough with all the misery he had gathered.

"You were right." Jack barely felt his lips moving, barely noticed how broken and hoarse his voice sounded. "I'll never have a family. All I do is destroy everything I touch..."

The spirit of misfortune said nothing for an entire minute.  
Maybe there was nothing to say at all...

"It was not your fault, child." Phaethon's tone was strangely serious, his fingers grabbing at Jack's shoulder in a death's grip - almost to make the boy remember he was real. The sudden heat burning at his skin served only to make him hyperaware of the whole situation, pushing the numbness away. "Fate had decided what would happen. Either you were here or bringing snow to Russia, Titanic would've sunk. It needed to happen, even with a great cost. She was a strong ship, stronger than most I've ever seen, but not unsinkable. What happened tonight will open the eyes of many people of many generations."

The younger spirit nodded, yet acceptance was far away from entering his mind so easily.  
That would be the last time he played so recklessly over an ocean.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	80. Fathers

_**Hello my dearies! I'm sorry for being late aaand for the short chapter but my life is all messy and I just can't stop focusing on something else? I'm really sorry for that. However, I promise I'll be writing some nice chapters soon ;v; thank you for being so patient with me! And omg thank you for so many reviews you guys are AMAZING! I never thought this story would get so much love but uughh I can't even say how much it means to me! Thank you thank youuuu**_

 _ **This is a little thing requested by** PlaidOtaku **. I hope I did it well!  
** Ravenna Frost **, I'm working on your request right now. I'm sorry for the delay ;v;**_

 _ **Little fun fact:** Sandy is the only person on Earth that knows Phaethon's true identity. Kozmotis/Pitch had his memory conveniently wiped away during his possession, and Bunnymund and Emily-Jane had never met him before. Despite seldom meeting each other, Sandy and Phaethon are drinking buddies._

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: In which Pitch and Phaethon are two big 5-yrs-old.**_

* * *

 _ **80\. Fathers (2013)  
**_ _Guardians_

Another deep sigh tore from his lips before Jack could even think about stopping it, more worried about the headache threatening to become a migraine quite sooner than later. He knew that had been a terrible idea to bring Phaethon and Pitch to one of those boring meetings but oh well, they really left him no choice did they? Now he simply wished they would just shut the hell up and let him think, because there were too many people talking too loud at once and he couldn't simply focus on anything but the annoying pain growing on his temples rather quickly. Leaving two dark spirits behind to deal with some angry Guardians, after all the unnecessary chaos they had created only a few months ago, was surely an idea even more terrible than forcing them to come with him to the North Pole. A loud, rude retort in a long dead language ( _that he understood very well, thank you Pitch_ ) made him cringe in shame and annoyance, wondering exactly _why_ he had chosen the worst spirits wandering on that planet to live with. Pitch was a perfect drama queen and Phaethon was no better than the Boogeyman, only more rude and far less inclined to behave in a meeting with the blasted _Guardians of Childhood_. More than once Jack doubted that the spirit of misfortune was far more powerful than he really showed but right now Phaethon could be the **_queen of the space_** and the winter child couldn't care less.

"Ladies, you both are beautiful." He finally found a second of silence in which his voice echoed louder and far more angered than he had expected, but he was grateful it worked as much as he had wished. The dark spirits stared at him in silent disbelief, as if they couldn't just accept _Jack_ had interrupted them. "I've come here to discuss the children's well being, not argue if I **favorite** someone."

"This is highly more important than some human children crying around."

Jack just groaned in response, really needing all his might not to _freeze_ someone as the strange pair renewed their useless bickering. For a second he dared to muse if smacking his head against the nearest wall and passing out in that moment would be worth the massive headache he'd get later. Well things couldn't get any worse than they already were... Unfortunately a golden dreamweaver decided to pick that very minute to approach him before the immortal child could go on with his plans, the goofy smile on Sandy's lips showing that he was obviously amused by the whole situation - and Tooth's barely contained giggles almost made him want to have Pitch's powers so he could jump into a shadow anywhere in the room and disappear at any second. The Guardians weren't supposed to be **enjoying that**! They were still at the Boogeyman's throat all the time and he didn't even need to mention Misfortune's doings to start a fight. So why were they simply standing there and enjoying their presence? And why did he have such a stupidy idea of bringing Pitch _and_ Phaethon to the Pole? It was ridiculous, _humiliating_ even! And not to mention completely _idiotic_ and...

Oh right.  
It was Father's Day.

Fan- _fucking_ -tastic.

Now he could understand why they were bickering like children over a Christmas gift, yet he couldn't help but smack his head against his staff ( _since the nearest wall was being blocked by a really annoying giant kangaroo_ ) for his mastered stupidity. That simple fact had slipped from his mind the moment his caretakers started arguing like an _almost_ adorable pair of five-years-old and didn't come back until now for some reason he surely had no interest in understanding. And once more it made him wonder why they were there _at all_. Right, he wanted to spend the day with them but the Guardians had decided to summon a meeting out of nowhere and he couldn't simply not show up neither leave Pitch and Phaethon alone on that day. He had truly believed things couldn't get any worse... A strong hand met his shoulder with the finesse of a punch, forcing the thoughts away from his mind, and the winter child needed to hold on his staff to actually not fall off the couch with the blunt force, wide eyes staring up at the giant of a man laughing loud and openly at his dumbfounded expression. North really had had too many eggnogs already...

"You forgot presents, da?"

"They don't really care about it. It's the same thing every year, in fact." Jack deadpanned, taking a glance at the dark spirits - almost **praying** they weren't throwing a _tantrum_. Fortunately they had decided to shut up and simply stare at each other in silent contempt, as if trying to act mature enough for more than a minute. "I shouldn't even be surprised anymore..."

What else could he expect from two people that had no idea whatsoever about being a family? But they were still trying, weren't they?

Well... A tired giggle escaped his lips as Jack made himself comfortable on the couch, sipping into the cup of eggnog Sandy offered him, decided to enjoy their little show as much as the Guardians.

He could care about favorites later.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	81. Overprotection

**_Hello again, my dearies! I'm sorry for the delay as always, buuut now I might have some more time to focus on this story as before. I'll be trying to update older chapters to fit them into the current timelines (and some may have not a timeline at all, like chapter 77) but soon enough everything will be on its place! Thank you so so much for your patience!_** ** _And I'm really glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter! Thank you for your reviews, favorites and follows! It means a lot to me!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: In which Phaethon teaches a nature spirit a good lesson._**

* * *

 ** _81\. Overprotection (1912)  
_** _Welcome Home_

There were a few things he _really_ enjoyed about that excuse of a planet, and that sudden realization had surprised even Phaethon himself. He reveled on the misery humans exhaled freely, and even if it was _nothing_ in compare of the warmth of a newborn star, he had grown used of the strange coldness surrounding that forgotten floating rock easily. And it was the cold, merciless and unforgiving, that had drawn him towards that frost child - always **so cold** and lonely, desperate and greedy for attention, so full of misery and _hope_ all at once that it was almost impossible for him not to stay around. As lost as a comet out of its constellation, the child needed guidance to find his way back home - and the former starforger had happily taken place as Jack Frost's mentor. He was well aware that his methods were crude and more malicious than it was necessary, yet seldom the boy had complained about it. In fact, it seemed the boy was simply content to have some company, even if said company was a tainted celestial being.

Jack Frost was a little lost star that had been forgotten by its creators, abandoned in a hollow cosmos without an answer of who he was and what he was supposed to do. It was heartbreaking, for the boy was one of those perfect, balanced creatures that were so rare and so beautiful that Phaethon couldn't understand why one would leave him, he couldn't understand how others were so blind at the pure glow _emanating_ from the boy's soul, shining as brightly as a young sun, as mischievous and brave as an innocent moonbeam. He had spent a _lifetime_ looking for someone just like Jack, for the cosmos' sake! How did others **dare** to ignore and push the winter spirit away without a second thought? It _enraged_ him to no end, and at some point of those troubling years he had decided that Jack should be treated as one of his dearest stars - oh how he missed them, their warmth... yet, even if the immortal boy was as cold as Death herself, he was as sweet and special as any other creation he had forged in long forgotten times.

If Jack Frost was now his offspring, it meant anyone standing on his way would get a _really overprotective_ dark spirit on the neck.

No one messed with his precious treasures and walked out of it with no consequences, and he'd made sure the entire Pitchiner family understood that **perfectly** clear.

The one that called herself "Mother" barely noticed his not so fragile figure towering slowly over hers, too focused on blaming _his_ star child for something as trivial as the Titanic incident. Jack, the poor thing that had nothing wrong at all, kept taking the blame freely, eyes bright with unshed tears that would be enough to make anyone stop their useless ranting if they took a second to look closer - but she didn't stop. Her words only became crueler and crueler, and that mere fact ignited a raging, dangerous fury Phaethon hadn't felt in a really long time. In a second he forgot about the boundaries trying to keep his true form concealed, and even if now he was a mere ghost of his glorious past, it was still enough to conquer her weak presence and make the pathetic "mother" cower away from him, eyes as green as the dress she used wide and filled with such a panic he hadn't seen since the Golden Age. He had expected that, in fact.

She was Kozmotis' daughter yet she had **nothing** of him on herself.  
That was... pathetic and quite disappointing.

Jack, on other hand and to his utter surprise, simply stared at him in the purest awe one could've mustered on that moment, and for that flash of heartbeat Phaethon almost believed his soul shone a bit brighter. Another reason for him to rage over the one hurting his boy so deeply.

"You, nature sower, should know better than attack _my_ star child." He growled in the ancient language she _would_ remember, and his voice shook the very depths of the ocean they've been floating over until Mother Nature had found them and he knew she'd felt that, her face losing all the color in a matter of instant. A hand rested on her chest, as if it could stop his burning aura from reaching her heart but then, suddenly, she recomposed herself, her expression stern and cold, lips parted as she wanted to _retort_. What a stupid woman... His golden claws locked around her neck easily, pulling her to his eye level and almost forcing himself not to constrict her windpipe (as much as the thought was pleasantly hard to ignore). "Do not fool yourself believing **you** were the one bringing life to this excuse of planet and do not think for a moment you're a _necessary_ force to exist. You sow life the way that one bends time. Cute, but _nothing special_."

"You..." She gasped and thrashed against his claws, trying to escape his grip - a butterfly trying to fly away from a wolf's paws. How amusing, in fact...

"I've burned the entire cosmos for one soul, child." And the enraged growl became a dangerous, promising whisper. A promise that meant pain and agony for one that had never felt the real despair, and she knew it. The so called mother cowered under his fingers, her struggles ceased at once. "And I _will_ do it again, only to catch **you** in the flames. This planet lives still because _I say so_. And believe me when I say it **does not** need a mother. You've forgotten who you are, Pitchiner girl-" A pathetic noise that almost resembled a sob escaped her lips, panic and horror written on every line of her face. "-and you are _unfitting_ his name. Get close to the star child again, you and any of your petty puppets, and you will return to dust."

The moment his claws released her neck, she disappeared in a flurry of leaves and wind in less than a second.

What a beautiful little show...

He allowed the boundaries to take over his body once more, forcing the unnecessary power in the depths of his soul, shaking away every aspect of the pathethic celestial dragon he still could be. Cold hands rested gently on his shoulders, blue eyes filled with concern ( _not fear why didn't Jack fear him?_ ) scanning over his face as if looking for something. His lips turned into a shadow of smile and the frost child seemed satisfied enough to sit by his side on the giant iceberg, the comforting silence filling the chilly night of May as they watched the stars disappear slowly on the endless firmament, the sun taking their place on the sky inch by inch.

"You're... more than a dark spirit, right? It wasn't... just an illusion."

"I'm less than what I really were, once."

He wasn't prepared for such a conversation in that very moment, and Jack simply hummed in response, understanding as always. Wonderful little creature. How could one be so cruel to him?

Well, no matter. He would make sure the frozen star child would never be hurt again.

* * *

 ** _Little fact:_** _I_ _f you think Pitch is overprotective over Jack, you haven't seen Phaethon yet. Phaethon is a powerful being that protects Jack with all his heart, and that's a **very dangerous** thing. He's full aware of his powers, and he has no limits, no boundaries and he doesn't condone any kind of bully towards the boy. More often than not he needs to hold himself back not to destroy something, and only stops when **Jack himself** stands on his way. Otherwise he'll not think twice before killing someone._

 _Pitch, on the other hand, usually does what Jack asks (that it's stay out of the way and not hurt other spirits only because they got into a fight). Pitch only takes the matter into his hands in extreme situations (like Ponos' & chapter 85 incident), and only because Jack has no power to get away by himself. Pitch is overprotective, but Phaethon is thrice worse than the Boogeyman._

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	82. Special II

_**Hello again dearies! Sooo... No drama today. My mind refuses to work with drama, so have a little funny, fluffy chapters instead. It seems some of you guys really enjoyed the last special chapter so let me know if you want to see more of them! For now, thank you so so much for your wonderful reviews, it means a lot to me and I couldn't be more grateful for all this love. You guys are amazing!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **82\. Special II**_

 _ **VIII.**_

Pitch needed to blink once, twice before finally accepting his eyes weren't deceiving him, yet his mind took a little longer. Maybe he had fallen asleep without noticing it and his Fearlings decided to play with him again, because he couldn't find a good reason to see what he was seeing.

"Why _on cosmos' name_ are you wearing **it**?"

Jack Frost shifted uncomfortably on his feet, looking ashamed enough to compensate for three hundred years of careless tricks and pranks, face as _pink_ as the dress he somehow decided to use. Pitch had no problems at all with his ward wearing a dress, for it had happened more times than he cared to count before. The huge problem in all the situation was... it was an _extremely scandalous_ dress, a type that would make Aphrodite herself **blush**.

"I've made a bet." The winter child finally replied, sounding so small and rather pathetic that for a second Pitch almost felt bad for him. "With Hermes." _Almost._

"..."

"..."

"You deserve it."

"I know."

* * *

 _ **IX.**_

"What are you doing now?"

"We're pirates. Yar!"

Pitch raised an hairless eyebrow, really unsure of how he should react to a winter spirit, a baby kitsune and three little ghosts pretending to be "mighty" pirates and fighting some young Fearlings in what seemed to be an **interesting** imaginary battle. In the middle of his hall.

"And what are you fighting for? It must be a great treasure."

Jack simply nodded from his spot and pointed an icy sword towards a large pile of trinkets and collectibles that belonged to the boy. Well, a great treasure indeed. With a soft chuckle the Nightmare King decided to stand aside and watch, wondering when he got soft enough to enjoy such fleeting, _funny_ moments.

* * *

 ** _X._**

"So... you're the Nightmare King." Jack started slowly, and Pitch was almost sure he'd regret ever acknowledging the boy's presence. With a deep sigh he nodded softly, staring up at a winter child looking back at him with a weird expression on his young features. "And we're like... father and son, right."

" _Yes_ , Jack."

"Does it make me some kind of royalty, then?"

"Yes. You're Prince Whiny Charming, the most annoying prince of all lands."

"..."

Oh for darkness' sake the boy was _really_ considerating that!

"Don't tell me you want a crown too."

"I want one."

Pitch growled and smacked the book against his face, in hopes he'd wake up from that little new nightmare.  
Alas it was no dream.

"I hate you _**so much**_."

* * *

 _ **XI.**_

Well he hadn't really expected to find the golden city that easily, and by Aurion's dumbstruck expression it was obvious he had no idea such a place could really exist. Yet what they really didn't expect at all was countless natives praising them as if they were some kind of gods - but hey, an entire city could see them! That was just great!

At least for Jack, even if he had had a difficult time pulling a very annoyed summer spirit into a temple.

"I'm no _god_ , for Mother's sake!"

"Come on, stop spoiling the locals' fun. They can see us!"

"Do you know how much I hate you?"

"I have an idea. But hey, free food and belief."

Aurion simply grumbled in response.  
That was what he got for playing with a _winter spirit_ during Spring.

* * *

 _ **XII.**_

"Pitch. Pitch. Pitch."

Oh no, not this again...

"Dad. Dad. Dad. Daddy."

No, he wouldn't kill a winter child today. He was in a really good mood.

"Papa. Papa. Papa."

Breath. He'd just breath and ignore the annoying voice.  
In, out. In, out.

"Pa. Pa. Pa."

" _What_ , Jack?"

The boy simply smiled brightly before pointing at his pants. "Your zipper is open."

Pitch panicked for an entire second before remembering he didn't have a **fucking zipper** on his shadowy clothes.  
Unfortunately Jack was already gone, laughing loudly at his horrified expression.

* * *

 _ **XIII.**_

Sandman floated into the dark lair slowly, eyes darting to and fro as he moved deeper and deeper into the darkness. Something was going on in there, he could feel it on his sand! But what could it be? Did Pitch decided to go all evil again? For the way the shadows moved and shifted on place, it surely seemed so. As if the Guardians would allow him to do as much as leave that place and...

And then there was a cold hand grabbing his arm and pulling him down and behind something that barely resembled a couch, Jack's muffled giggles echoing softly around them. Sandy simply cocked his head, wondering what was going on in there now.

"We're playing." The winter child whispered, as if telling a big secret. "Pitch is a ghost and I have two hours to find him."

Oh.

 _Pitch Black_ playing with a child.  
That was something Sandy would **pay** to watch.

And by the smirk on Jack's lips it was obvious the boy was thinking the same thing.

* * *

 _ **XIV.**_

"Well aren't you the _cutest_ little thing?"

The toddler squeaked loud and happily at the sudden tickle attack on his small belly, giggling and trying to squirm away from the offending fingers. Phaethon simply laughed in response, keeping the winter baby in place before finally releasing him from the 'torture'.

Some human babies could be really adorable.

"Baa! Ba!" Jack giggled again, little arms up in the air, pleading to be picked up.

Well... Pitch wouldn't mind if he took the boy for the rest of the week.

* * *

 _ **XV.**_

Jack could do no more than raise an eyebrow at Sandy's silent burp, wondering why in high heavens the little man would enter a drinking contest with Phaethon. He was still trying to understand why North decided to join them!

"Nothin' bette' vodka to.." The giant former bandit stopped for a moment to gather his thoughts, slipping the vodka in his hands for the hundredth time. "..to keep you varm!"

That was highly debatable, but the winter child decided to stay quiet and step out of the room before things got bad.

Thinking about it... he knew he had a camera somewhere.  
Oh boy, that'd be good.

* * *

 ** _XVI._**

"Not that I **mind** it, but..." What was he saying, of course he minded it! Jack cleared his throat, trying to find the best way to form that question without dying of embarrassment. " _Why_ are you naked... you know, in my room? In _my_ bed?"

Aurion simply shrugged.

"I needed a place to cool down. I'm too hot."

And Jack had really believed he had already heard every terrible excuse in the world.  
A summer spirit **loved** to prove him wrong all the time.

"I. Hate. You."

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	83. Tears

**_Hello dearies. Meh, I'm not satisfied at all with this chapter but oh well. At least I hope it's good enough for Ravenna Frost ;v; I'll give it a sequel soon, but for now I hope you'll enjoy it! If it's not good enough, please let me know and I'll write something better!_** ** _And omg 350 reviews! Guys thank you so so so much! You're wonderful and I love you so much!_**

 ** _Chapter 7 has been updated today, so please read it!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: Chapter requested by Ravenna Frost._  
** _(warnings: M/M mentions; blood)_

* * *

 ** _83\. Tears (2015)  
_** _Guardians_

Something was just terribly wrong, he could _feel_ it on his very center. Jack had been gone for only a few weeks, spreading snow and fun times around the world - so why did it he have that gnawing feeling on the back of his head that almost _screamed_ for him to go out and find the boy at once, make sure everything was okay? Pitch sighed once more, fingers brushing through his raven hair but nothing he did the whole day seemed to ease the discomfort that had settled on his chest without his consent. Maybe the boy had fallen off the sky and got hurt, maybe Wind had dropped him in some deep hole and now he couldn't get out by himself... a thousand and one things could've happened to Jack Frost. With an annoyed growl the Nightmare King allowed his body to fall on an old chair, trying to focus on anything else but the stupid winter child he called his ward. The boy could fend for himself easily, and there were only a few that dared to hurt the spirit of Winter nowadays. Being a Guardian of Childhood, the Head of Winter and the Boogeyman's ward surely helped his current reputation.

So why couldn't Pitch simply relax and take the boy out of his mind?

"You're so tense." Oh there was the exact distraction he was needing in that moment. Cold hands rested on his shoulders in an almost friendly touch, dangerously close to his neck but he couldn't care less. Phaethon's presence, as inappropriate as it was, was always welcome when he was feeling so out of place. "What's on your mind?"

"I've gone too soft for that boy."

"You've gone soft the moment you took him in." Phaethon purred sweetly, and the fallen King felt a tired sigh escape his lips once more. That was a fact he couldn't even try to deny, for it was the truth. Jack had twisted his entire life in a matter of days, leaving him no spaces to stop the boy. Evanescent fingers ran down his arm, leaving a trail of cold touch that was barely there yet real enough to make him shudder. Phaethon was closer than he had expected, his frozen breath that almost matched Jack's sending shivers down his body. "Would you rather still be the Fearling's puppet?" And Pitch couldn't do much but shake his head oh so slowly, choking on his own breath for a painful second as the fallen star's lips rested against the soft skin of his neck, robbing him of all the warmth he felt. "Are you scared of what other spirits will say about the mighty King of Nightmares?"

"If you're done trying to steal my lifeforce..."

"Oh." Phaethon seemed to finally notice what he was doing and moved his face away, yet fingers remained hovering over Pitch's shoulder in an almost touch for another long moment before the spirit stepped away and moved to stand in front of the chair, a dangerous smile dancing on his lips. "As if there was still something _appealing_ enough in you for me to feed on, dear General."

The old title sent an unpleasant, nauseating shiver down his spine and Pitch needed a moment to remember how to breath properly. More than once the tainted star had stepped out of his limits yet the fallen King did nothing to stop him. He didn't really care, in fact. Such provocations always helped him to relax and focus on something else but whatever that had been invading his thoughts. Alas it only took him a blink of an eye to think about Jack again, to wonder if the boy was safe and if that stupid feeling burning the base of his stomach was just a reflex of Phaethon's presence. The frost child had been more careful and quite powerful after the whole Winter incident, and maybe he was just overreacting again. It wouldn't be the first time, would it? Gentle fingers brushed over his cheek in a ghostly touch and a soft smile curled on his lips, tranquility washing over his darkened being for an entire minute before something struck deep within his core with the power of an angry god.

In a matter of second, Jack's powerful blast of fear made him choke on thin air and Pitch grabbed at the fallen star's rotten clothes to regain some balance, ignoring the Fearlings cheering for the sudden dinner. Something _had_ happened, yet he couldn't understand nor read on the waves of horror that kept invading his lair. But something was very clear to him: someone had hurt his precious child, and such brainless creature would pay dearly for that. He just noticed he had brought Phaethon with him only when they stepped out of the closest shadow into some forgotten part of his lair and a strange noise escaped the spirit's lips before his eyes fell on whatever Phaethon had seen. And when he finally saw it, his heart seemed to stop beating for a painful moment. The frost child was barely recognizable under the mess of blood and black goo that surrounded his body and tattered clothes. His breathes were no more than soft, distressed sobs - as if he hadn't enough strength to cry out properly, to call for help. The fear was still there, clinging at Pitch's skin, forcing him to taste what had become a foul flavor in his tongue.

"Jack?"

And the King of Nightmares regretted the very moment he decided to step closer. Blue eyes shot open and a strangled cry that resembled one of a hurt animal echoed on the room, a freezing burst hitting his chest before Pitch had enough time to move away from the sudden attack. He recognized the magic that ran freely through his body, the raw power that burned like sunlight on old times yet- it wasn't Winter's. His eyes met the frost child's and Jack simply retreated as quickly as his broken body allowed him, still sobbing loud enough to fill the entire room with the anguished cries of an agonizing child. It was... nauseating, _heartbreaking_. Jack's fears finally made some sense to him, and dread took its place on the next second.

Jack was... _terrified_ of **Pitch Black**.  
Nothing could've hurt more than that.

"Shh... it's okay, snowflake." Phaethon's voice sounded so soft and gentle that he almost resembled the beautiful star he once were, moving so slowly that Jack seemed to stop crying for a moment, eyes focused on the spirit's face with so much helplessness on his face that Pitch needed to look away not to get sick by such sight. He couldn't **understand** it... _what_ had happened to his boy? "You're so scared, poor little thing. I'll keep you safe." Jack whimpered and shook his head, as if it could stop them from touching him, but Phaethon wouldn't have any of it. Pitch would never comprehend how Jack's sorrowful cries didn't bother him for a moment as he pulled the boy into his arms and nestled him until the winter spirit gave up and resumed in crying silently on the fallen star's shoulder, looking so small and so young... "Shh, snowdrop. You're safe. You're home."

The Nightmare King finally pushed himself up and approached them without a sound, daring to touch Jack's back as gently as he could - only to receive a startled noise in response, patterns of frost running wildly through Phaethon's arms and clothes, corrupted designs that had never belonged to Jack's innocent touch. Crimson, dangerous eyes found his and he didn't need to hear words to understand what the spirit of misfortune clearly said.

 _Stay away.  
_ _For now._

Shadows embraced him before Pitch was even aware of where they were taking him, but he didn't even try to stop the angered tears that escaped his eyes.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~**_


	84. Fear

**_I should be sleeping. Yea. I apologize for this really short chapter and everything written here. But I love you guys and you're wonderful and awesome and I love you so much! Thank you for your lovely reviews! *gives you all virtual fresh cookies* You guys are GREAT! And if you have any request, headcanon, ideas, etc please let me know! I love them!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: It's 1AM. I should be sleeping. Sorry.  
_** _(M/M mention, tho)_

* * *

 ** _84\. Fear (1956)  
_** _Guardians_

A loud giggle of a winter infant echoed through his poor excuse of a house, making Phaethon feel strangely light and happy. He hadn't really expected Pitch to come so early that week but oh well he couldn't even complain, for he did enjoy the boy's presence and even if he knew he was getting too soft for a human child, he cared nothing about it. A cold bundle of blue and white fell on his arms before the fallen star had enough time to understand what was going on, the Nightmare King's voice sounding too soft and too tired. Nothing really different from any other year, of course - and for a moment Phaethon almost wondered if Pitch would ever get used to have a youngling on his hands to deal with. It had been a very, very long time since Emily-Jane was just a toddler...

"I am _too old_ for this." The taller spirit said bluntly, yet there was something **amiss** about his expression. He looked almost lost, eyes focused on the frost toddler and filled with a curious kind of longing Phaethon hadn't seen in a billion years. As if he almost missed those times his daughter was no more than a baby... Oh Phaethon knew how much Pitch missed her, he knew how much he longed for those old times to come back even if he knew things would never change, because he'd never be the great, brave General he once were. "I'm the King of **Nightmares**. I should be spreading fear and terror, not... taking care of stupid winter spirits."

"As I recall, we created the Dark Circle with the sole purpose of 'spreading fear and terror' when you cannot." The spirit of misfortune needed to force himself not to smile at Pitch's murderous glance. Jack, on other hand, just giggled at his guardian's 'funny face'. "He'll never replace her, Kozmotis-" And he noticed the shudder of shame and self hatred that shook the fallen King's body. "-but _you_ made him your **son** the moment you decided to care for the boy as such. Why are you so worried now?"

Pitch didn't answer for a long moment that seemed to last for endless seconds, lips pressed in a thin line and eyes staring at anything but the frost baby chewing Phaethon's shoulder happily with that little toothless mouth - and after an entire minute of purest silence, Phaethon simply gave up. Things wouldn't change because he wanted so anymore and he should've get used to that little truth a long time ago. With a deep sigh he moved away, placing Jack in an old thing that barely resembled a crib and offering the child a tattered stuffed toy. It was strangely sweet how easily a baby could get distracted by simple things, and it didn't take long until the winter boy was snuggled against the toy, sleeping soundly. A shadow of smile danced on Phaethon's lips. He truly missed taking care of those younglings...

"I just... need to think." The Boogeyman said suddenly, voice as soft and almost gentle as the summer breeze. He wasn't looking at Phaethon, the weaker spirit noticed, but staring at the sleeping baby with something akin to contentment shining on his golden eyes. "I've been humiliated by those foul Guardians more times than I cared to count, and my reputation is ruined. There are some in the Circle that plan to... _dethrone_ me. Ponos, Seth..." And then he approached the crib slowly, quietly, fingers brush through Jack's pure white hair in an almost touch. "If they know about him..about you or... these _feelings_... You've seen what losing Emily-Jane did to me."

As if he needed any reminder of that day, of the blood and mad anger the former general still carried inside...  
And just in that moment he finally understood it.

The lord of fears was _scared_ of losing the only thing keeping him from falling apart again.

He approached enough to rest a hand on Pitch's warm shoulder, not to steal but to reassure him - just like he had done so many times during the Golden Age, when hope was nothing but a pathetic, frail idea that would never thrive. Timidly, ashen fingers came to rest over his own, the sudden acceptance shoving down his throat that old feeling of _home_ he had always refused to acknowledge in a very painful way. Even so he approached even more, bodies so close he could pass through Pitch if he so desired - but he didn't, and instead he stood still, breathing into the ancient, sad scent that exhaled from the Boogeyman's entire being, basking in the gentle warmth that had always welcomed him. Oh how he missed the ond times in moments like that...

"You will **not** lose him, or me. I _promise_."

* * *

 ** _Thank you for reading!_**  
 ** _See ya~!_**


	85. Dreadful

**_Hello my dearies! I'm sorry for the huge delay but this weekend was terrible and my mind refused to cooperate with me so yea, I'm truly sorry. Aaand I've just finished reading the entire 'Guardians of Childhood' collection and I couldn't be more happy! So this story may have some things from book!verse but I'm still trying to decide about it but oh well._**

 ** _And thank you so so so so much for all your reviews. You guys are just GREAT and I love you all!_**

 ** _Guest:_** _Oh there's a lot of mispelled words down the way on older chapters. As I've said, English isn't my first language but I'm trying to improve my skills daily. I still need to update lots of chapters and make lots of corrections, 9 included - but thank you for the tips anyway!_

 ** _If you have any request, idea,_** ** _criticism, headcanon, etc let me know!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: In which Jack finds out that Pitch isn't a really good parent.  
_**

* * *

 ** _85\. Dreadful (1819)  
_** _Guardians_

No matter how much time they had already spent together, there were days Pitch couldn't really understand Jack Frost, and more often than not he decided to ignore the curiosity chewing into his insides furiously. The winter child was one of those annoying things that could never been understood completely, so why should he waste so much time wondering why the boy did the things he did? Things like suddenly start staring at the darkened walls of the main room as if he had seen a very nauseating bug crawling up his arm, which had occurred enough times for Pitch to worry about the child's mental situation. An entire century of pure loneliness, of talking to no one but the Wind and children that would never talk back usually pushed spirits deep into insanity.

"This wallpaper is _dreadful_." Jack had then said loudly, as suddenly as his mood changed, pointing a pale finger at the offending dark material as if it could make the wall disappear at once. Pitch didn't respond right away, raising an eyebrow at the perfect example of what he had been musing until that moment. "One of us will have **to go**."

The King of Nightmares took a moment to appreciate the childness pouring from Frost's every word and gesture, trying to pinpoint exactly when he had gotten a soft spot for such useless feelings that now rushed into his chest with pathetic ease. Not that it mattered right now, of course-not when there was a distressed winter spirit staring at him with strangely _expectation_ , almost hoping the Boogeyman would simply do as he pleased and get rid of the not-really-good wallpaper... if there was still something under the darkness and remainings of Fearlings that had been stuck on those same walls for longer than Pitch could remember. Yet a shadow of laughter escaped his lips as he moved closer to the boy, resting a hand on a small shoulder, cold biting at his skin mercilessly, shoving away the constant warmth that always plaged him - _almost_ making him remember why he enjoyed having a frozen spirit around. They were pretty useful sometimes...

"I don't think the wallpaper appreciates your opinion about it- look, it's even trying to eat you!"

"Wh..." And the winter child gave an indignant yelp at the soft motion on the endless sea of black, jumping away as quickly as a startled rabbit the exact moment a barely recognizable hand emerged from the wall, reaching his finger. If that was even possible, his already pale face seemed to lose a bit more of color, blue eyes wide and so shocked that the boy needed an entire second to gather his thoughts and finally stutter. "T-that's what I'm talking about! It _needs_ to go!"

"You can always ask it nicely to leave, but then you'll have to find it another home. It enjoys cold flesh, you know."

Pitch waited patiently, feeling a smile tug at his lips and refusing to let it show just now. A silent, confused moment passed by and then realization seemed to finally hit Jack - horror twisted his constant joyful features and in less time than it took a heart to beat he was already up in thin air, floating as far as he could from the source of his dread and qualm, almost hoping it'd be enough to keep him away from whatever that was living in the darkened walls. And for the first time in a really long time the fallen King allowed himself to laugh loud and fiercely, until his sides burned and ached from the motions, until the winter boy finally realized he was just _joking_.

Jack's dumbstruck expression couldn't be more _priceless_.

In the end, Pitch decided to get rid of the foul 'wallpaper'.  
A certain frozen room was in need of a _new decoration_ , after all.

He could vaguely recall a winter spirit sleeping in his room **for weeks** after that - but it had been completely worth it.

* * *

 _Fun fact: Pitch is a terrible, terrible parent and he's damn proud of it.  
Fun fact²: Based on Oscar Wilde's words: "_ _This wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. Either it goes or I do."_

* * *

 ** _Thank you for reading!_**  
 ** _See ya~_**


	86. Twinetender

**_Hello dearies! First of all, I must apologize for being late. Real life sucks - and now with my finals around the corner, I can't focus too much on my stories as I'd like to. Second, I'm really sorry for the short chapter but I needed to post something cute and... comical? I hope so. Thank you so much for being so patient with me. You guys are great. I'll be back to normal chapters on the end of the month, tho! Until then, feel free to leave requests or ideas on my PM if you have something in mind!_**

 ** _Guest:_** _Oh you didn't make me upset at all! Thank you so much for the tip, I'll try to leave a warning on the chapters with language next time. Thank you, really!_

 ** _For now, enjoy the little chapter. Thank you so much, guys. You are amazing._**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

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 ** _86\. Twinetender (1820)  
_** _Guardians_

There was something really strange about Jack that night, and it hadn't taken Pitch too long to notice it. For some reason the boy kept grumbling under his breath about 'stupid shadow-things' and running restlessly through the maze of darkness that was their pathetic excuse of a home. Not that the Nightmare King would stop him to ask what was happening now, for it obviously mattered nothing at all. Maybe it was just another new game, or maybe the winter child was just in one of those days that made Pitch worry about his sanity once more - not that there was much he could do but stay aside and watch, in fact. His mere presence evoked fear and dread, and even if Jack kept saying everything would be fine, the Boogeyman would rather have a _stable_ winter spirit living down there with him. He could deal with being cold almost all the time, but being _frozen over_ wasn't his idea of fun.

Golden eyes darted around slowly, looking for the source of his unwanted, sudden uneasiness only to find Jack staring up at him with so much expectation written over his face that Pitch needed an entire moment to gather his thoughts. That was it... He'd never get used to a child _looking up to him_.

"What now?" The Nightmare King finally groaned, trying to sound as menacing as he could... and Jack simply tilted his head slightly in response. That damn boy... Couldn't he see Pitch wasn't in the mood for any game right now? But before the older spirit could shoo the child off, Jack took an exaggerated sigh.

"Have you seen Twinetender?" A minute filled with nothing but silence rolled by. "You know, my staff?" Jack decided to explain, his voice almost gentle as if he was talking to a small child, and Pitch blinked slowly, allowing his mind to process whatever he had heard now. What was the boy even talking about now...

Oh.

" _Excuse me?_ "

There was no way on seven galaxies he'd ever admit he had sounded so **scandalized**.  
Jack didn't even bat an eyelash at his obvious horror.

"I think a Fearling stole it last night. They don't like me very much."

"And I wonder **why**."

* * *

 ** _Fun fact:_** _Jack's staff is_ ** _really_** _called Twinetender. Mr. Joyce confirmed it on his Instagram~ :3_

 ** _Thank you for reading!_**  
 ** _See ya on the end of the month, guys! Stay tuned!_**


	87. Mad

**_It's 3AM and I shouldn't even be writing something at such an hour. Well I've given up on pushing some sense into this story a long time ago. Just roll with it, I know you guys enjoy it as much as I do. For now, thank you so much for your wonderful reviews, follows &favorites. You guys are great and I love you all! I'll try to be back from the dead as soon as possible but... not today. Sorry._**

 ** _Headcanons, ideas, nice_** ** _criticisms, etc. are always appreciated._**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians (oh rly)_**

* * *

 ** _Summary: It_** _should_ ** _have a summary. Oh well._**

* * *

 ** _87\. Mad (2012)  
_** _Lightbringer_

The King of Nightmares had always known the bittersweet consequences of his acts, of his wretched plans and spoiled games. No matter how hard he tried, no matter what he did or how powerful he could be... he'd _never_ take the Guardians down, he'd never end their lights and wonder and dreams. The entire cosmos had always favorited the **goodness** , and _they_ were the heroes. Good people with good hearts and pure souls. He... he was just the villian, the wicked monster that needed to be chased away whenever he dared to come out of his lair. In every fairytale, old or new, forgotten or not, villians had never gotten what they desired the most - no matter **what** it was. They'd never gotten their _happy ending_.

A self-deprecating smile crawled its way up to his lips and he allowed it to stick a little longer.

 **He** had been a hero, once. He had been _greater than them_. He had fought the same creatures that now filled his decayed body and rotten soul, and he had fought them fiercely. He had almost wiped darkness away from the depths of the Golden Age, and they could've lived a life filled with nothing but peace, happiness... Yet, a zillion years after his 'fall from grace' he still couldn't understand what he had done to deserve such a cruel fate. And he wanted to-oh gods how he wanted to **understand** it, how his fragilized spirit burned to remember the _terrible sins_ he might've committed to receive the utmost dark punishment. He needed to remember her, their faces, their voices, the way they touched him and hugged him- and he'd make them remember, and he'd make them pay for everything they had done to him...

"Stop it!"

Jack's voice barely reached his ears as he moved from shadow to shadow, fighting over and over the damned Guardians that had dared take away everything from him, lost in the same madness that used to overcome the winter child's senses before. They've always been a good pair, a great team... why wouldn't the boy help him now? If they worked together, they could have **everything** they'd always wanted! They could do it! They could finally conquer the scorned moon and its little soldiers! Jack had no reason to care for the Guardians, to care about the countless human children that couldn't and would never see them! And then there were cold fingers, colder than pure ice, bitting into his skin, pulling him away from the safety of his own domain, keeping him away from the piles of corrupted sand that begged to be used _right now, right away_...

"Pitch, stop! Look at me."

He shifted on place, almost tentative against the small yet strong hand keeping him frozen on that spot even if he knew it was a lost battle. Oh how the mighty had fallen... Pitch Black, the destroyer of planets and stars, cowering from the mere presence of a winter, young spirit. When exactly had he been reduced to a pathetic shadow of his shadow? Gentle fingers came to rest on an ashen cheek, moving his head ever so slowly until their gaze finally met. Blue eyes seemed to shine brighter than ever under the cursed moonlight, and there were so many feelings... so much **trust** and _expectation_. Why would one expect anything from a broken, fallen King? It wasn't **right**...

"We can... _win_ this time..."

"No, Pitch. Look at me." Jack's voice was demanding as a storm, strangely soft as a snowflake and Pitch could understand it as much as he could understand any other aspect of his deplorable life. He didn't deserve it, all that kindness and gentle touches... it was just _too much_ and he needed to leave and finish the Guardians once and for all- "Papa." And he felt the maddening shift of golden within his eyes, his heart offering a soft leap that had been enough to startle him to no end. "You're not the bad guy anymore, remember?"

Even if he could remember it, it was of _no use_. The Guardians would **always** see him as the villian, the dark creature that needed to be eliminated as soon as possible. How many times had they interfered on his pacific work and pushed him on the edge only because they believed his nightmares, the fear he used to spread, were useless, _dangerous_?

"I believe in you. I always believed in you."

 _But it doesn't matter anymore! Why can't you understand it-!_

There was a sigh. A second later, the chilling coldness slipped away from his face, from his very bones, leaving an empty space that almost _begged_ to be filled again... but Jack's touches didn't return. Instead, his smile was sad, broken. Not Jack-like at all.

It almost looked like... a goodbye.  
Pitch decided he **despised** that kind of smile.

"That's okay, Papa. 'Tis the last time they mess with you."

* * *

 _ **What happens further this point is up to you guys. I mean it, it's your turn to pick a good or bad ending so choose carefully.**_

 _ **Thank you for reading!  
See ya later~**_


	88. Umbrella

**_Hello you guys! Just passing by to leave a quick chapter on my way and a promise that I'll be back soon enough. Things at college are being harsh but it'll be over soon and then I can focus on all my stories. Thank you so much for your lovely reviews, you gave me great ideas! So I hope you enjoy this chapter and I'll see you guys very soon!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians_**

* * *

 ** _Summary: Another quick chapter. I know you guys are done with it but I promise I'll bring longer chapters soon!_**

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 ** _88\. Umbrella (1854)  
_** _Lightbringer_

"But... I still didn't get it, really."

The scowl that crossed Pitch's features didn't last enough for Jack to notice he was talking just a bit _too much_. Not that the boy would ever notice it anyway, too focused on Tefnut to pay attention to anything else around him. It was a surprise to see he didn't get himself killed yet, after all those years visiting the Dark Circle and meeting every dark spirit that was still out there. For some strange reason Pitch never cared to understand, it seemed the other spirits started to enjoy the boy's presence. They treated him almost gently, giving him treats and telling him stories of old times when they all were great and loved by humans all over the world. Well, some dark spirits still had their hearts on the right place, so maybe the Nightmare King shouldn't worry as much as he was...

"Why are you always carrying an umbrella around? It's quite funny when it's not raining. Even funnier for someone with a lioness head!"

Yes, forget that.  
He was _done_ worrying about a suicidal winter spirit.

Pitch dared to look over his shoulder, wondering if he should interfere with a little, painful beating but to his surprise, Tefnut simply offered the boy a gentle smile and a pat on the cheek. Well that was _interesting_... it was the first time in a long time he had seen the ancient spirit being so friendly to others that didn't belong to her pantheon.

"I am goddess of rain and weather." Tefnut replied simply, her strong accent lacing every word that escaped her lips. "It always rain when I'm around, and I do not enjoy being wet all time. Is bad for my fur."

Jack made a humming noise of understanding and then floated away as easily as a snowflake being carried by the Wind. Again, why hadn't Pitch taught the boy some **good** manners? A strange giggle echoed close enough to make him step away from the former goddess, golden eyes watching her feline features warily - and that day was full of surprises, for the giant woman didn't back away from his harsh look as he had expected. All she did was offer him the same gentle smile she had given Jack a few moments ago. What was wrong with those spirits nowadays? They weren't supposed to be so... _nice_ , so cordial. Most of the time they were trying to kill each other, for darkness' sake!

"Good cub, that one." She said before the Nightmare King could part his lips to ask something. "Too good. Too bright inside. Keep eye on him, your Highness. One may want to kill that light."

"I had believed you were a goddess of weather, not a sphinx." The master of fear replied, and the smile on her lips disappeared as suddenly as it had showed up, long fingers trembling around the umbrella as she held it with unnecessary strength. Oh so he had touched a delicate subject. Not that it really mattered in that moment... "If you're done..."

"I no sphinx, but I can see what _you_ cannot." The goddess almost growled, her voice low enough to force him to step closer to understand whatever she was trying to say. Why was he ever paying attention to an old goddess that had not a drip of her ancient power? But she was talking about Jack, about his careless ward and he needed to know what was happening... "The snow cub is innocent, pure. He trusts. Needs to be teached _not to_ trust everyone. Spirits will use him. They will _corrupt_ him, kill his bright light."

Oh. Another riddle.  
Wasn't that just **great**?

"It will _not_ happen, Tefnut. You should worry more about the next drizzle and less with my ward."

Tefnut really growled that time and left without another word. Not that Pitch would ever care about it. He had enough things to worry about in that moment.

Things like a winter spirit running away from an angry, covered-in-snow jackal.  
That would be a very long night...

* * *

 ** _Thank you for reading!_**  
 ** _See ya~_**


	89. Hesitation

**_Hello again! I really don't know what I'm doing with this story anymore, so I hope you guys still enjoy it. Whatever, thank you so much for your wonderful support! It means a lot to me and I wish real life wouldn't get in my way so often so I could write you better chapters. For now, I hope you'll enjoy this little piece of crap I've got you and oh well, I promise I'll be back soon with real nice chapters!_**

 ** _Thank you so so much for being wonderful readers! It means a lot to me!_**

 ** _Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians._**

* * *

 ** _Summary: Another crap chapter. Oh well._**

* * *

 ** _89\. Hesitation (2012)  
_** _Lightbringer_

He didn't want to do that.

He really didn't want to face the Guardians, not now nor _ever_ because, despite everything they had done, they still brought something **good** to the children. Jack could live with being pushed away and threatened whenever he got close enough, for he didn't need nor want their faked friendship. He had accepted the fact children would never see him, no matter what he tried. He'd be forever invisible for them and he was fine with that because he wasn't alone anymore and he'd never be again - but for some reason the winter child would never understand, it wasn't enough for Pitch. The Dark Circle, Jack... nothing of that was enough for the Nightmare King to end that unnecessary war at once. The master of fears wouldn't be satisfied until he made the Guardians pay for every hour and day they had forced him into solitude, into nothingness, for every second of pain they had inflicted on him even after Pitch had proved he just wanted to be _left alone_.

They couldn't understand Pitch had already suffered enough for all the crimes he had commited in his life as the King of Nightmares.

But Jack... Jack could understand.

That was why he wouldn't hesitate now. Pitch Black was his only family, for good or ill, and _no one_ messed with his family. No one would hurt _his father_ anymore.

The staff on his hands throbbed with power, almost humming, wanting to be used, to let his rage out. He knew he'd regret it later. Trying to face the Guardians of Childhood, the Moon's **favorite toys** , all by himself could be qualified as a terrible, terrible idea. They had captured him so easily all those decades ago... but he had trusted them, he had believed they had meant well only to be betrayed and _almost killed_ in the end. He wouldn't make the same mistake again. All he needed to do was take them away from Pitch ( _from the children you don't need to hurt the children they have nothing to do with it_ ) and then...then-

"You don't need to do it, Jack."

Tooth's voice was as soft and cautious as her eyes, yet he almost laughed at her words. What was that supposed to mean? He certainly _needed_ to do that. They wanted a bad guy to chase away, to prove themselves worth of their petty tittles.

Well, they **would** get one.

For a moment he dared to look over his shoulder, to make sure the Boogeyman wouldn't follow him.  
The weak shadow that looked back at him what was made him shove the hesitation away all at once.

It was time to give old Pitch a rest.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_  
 _ **See ya~!**_


	90. Photos

_**OMG I swear I didn't die yet! I'm so so sorry for this long absence, but my muse decided to flee and I couldn't make my mind work. I deeply apologize for being away for so long and for leaving this terribly short chapter. I'm gonna reply to all your reviews on private because you guys are great and I don't deserve all your love, but thank you so so much for being around. It means a lot to me and I promise I'll finish this story! Thank you so much!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians.**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: Jack does like his camera.**_

* * *

 _ **90\. Photos (2019)  
**_ _Welcome Home_

If there was something he truly enjoyed about that little town lost in the middle of nowhere were all the great, beautiful photos he could take all the time. Everyone always seemed to eager to let him take pictures of everyone, of every garden and pretty window he noticed on his path, and he _loved_ it. For some reason Jack never cared to truly understand, all those photos always made everything seem a bit more... **real**. Not that things weren't real enough, yet sometiems he got that strange feeling in the back of his head gnawing at his senses, whispering that his life was just a bittersweet dream and soon he'd wake up to face his true reality - which didn't seem to be a pleasant one _at all_. And then he'd dismiss the stupid voice with no hesitation as he took another photo, and another, giggling at his own childish thoughts.

Everything was just fine.  
Everything _was real_ and so was his family, and friends, and home, and he shouldn't worry at all-

"Photobomb!" Johann laughed loudly, arms wrapped at Jack's chest as they posed for yet another of the endless selfies they took every morning the moment one of them was awaken enough to reach the camera. The white, sudden flash still blinded them and snapped them completely awake in the same second it died out. "Don't you think we're _too old_ for that?" And every morning Johann would ask that, his voice always ringing a bit too happily about what should be a _serious_ question.

"Nah." Jack simply scoffed as always, pretending to be too focused on his new recent photos to pay attention to his twin, because he really didn't want to be too old for that. No one should be old enough for photos, he had decided. Photos should be kept _forever_. A way to help him remember he wasn't going mad, that his life was as real as it could be. "We can think about it when we're married. Or something."

There was a moment of silence that lasted for a heartbeat, and then Johann was moving around the bed, all long limbs and being as obnoxious as he could be.

"Or something."

Jack replied by taking another pic.

* * *

 _ **Guest: I'll explain this timeline better on the upcoming chapters! It's a confusing timeline indeed, and I'm sorry about it ;;**_

 _ **Thank you for reading and for nothing giving up on me!**_  
 _ **See ya~!**_


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